


Bad Sci-fi

by Rod13369



Category: Castle, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Murder, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 20:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8592472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rod13369/pseuds/Rod13369
Summary: A mummy-like corpse discovered in NYC brings Castle and Beckett into contact with a world that feels like a bad science-fiction novel.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Another crossover. This one was inspired in part by the discussion of odd missing-persons cases in the first season of Castle, and the episode "Vegas" of Stargate Atlantis. Set during season 1 of Castle, and post-series of the Stargate shows. Originally published on Fanfiction.net from 2010-2012.

“Castle!” Detective Kate Beckett yelled after the man in the bullet-proof vest that proclaimed “WRITER” as he passed her. Cursing under her breath, she got her balance back and took off down the alley.

“Castle!” she called again.

“I got him! I got him!” The novelist kept going, and despite her best efforts Kate was having a hard time catching up.

In any other part of New York, this long alley would be odd, but not in a neighborhood of old factories. The worst part was the alleys were a mess of old dumpsters, wooden crates, and God only knew what else. It was this mess that had caused Kate to lose her balance. Something had tripped her, and while she hadn’t fallen, she had stumbled into a wall long enough for Castle to blast past her, hell bent on being the hero.

“Castle!” Kate knew that the man wasn’t listening; it was just reflex, trying to get a clear shot. But the suspect was moving too quickly; it was all she could do to try to keep up. How Castle was managing to actually gain on the guy was a mystery.

Then it happened.

The alley dead-ended. The guy started climbing the chain-link. At first, Kate thought that her eyes were playing tricks on her: the guy seemed to be glowing. Then Castle caught up to him, reached up and grabbed the guy’s ankle. The glow intensified and encompassed Castle, too.

“Castle!” Squinting, Kate made it to the end of the alley as the glare faded. There was no sign of the suspect or…

“Castle!”

~~~~~

_“Colonel Carter to the brig. Colonel Carter to the brig.”_

Colonel Samantha Carter, commander of the U.S.S. _George Hammond_ , was three hallways away from the brig when the voice blared over the ship’s speakers. Stepping up her pace, Sam arrived at the door in less than twenty seconds. “What’s going on, Sergeant?” she asked the young woman in the doorway.

“Ma’am,” Sergeant Peters saluted, “we beamed up the Wraith. He’s in a holding cell. But we also picked up a hitchhiker.”

“A hitchhiker?” Sam followed the young noncom into the room of holding cells. In one was the Wraith, unconscious.

“We had to zat him,” Peters responded to Sam’s raised eyebrow. Then she motioned to a holding cell on the opposite side of the room. “This is the hitchhiker.”

“Did I raise my thumb?” the man in the cell asked. “I don’t think so!”

Sam didn’t acknowledge his comments, taking in his appearance instead. He was wearing dark jeans over comfortable-looking shoes, and a white-and-blue-striped shirt that complemented his blue eyes nicely. It was what he wore over the shirt that made the biggest impression, however: a bulletproof vest that proclaimed “WRITER”.

“Who are you?” he asked Sam.

“Who are you?”

“I asked first.” The O’Neill-like response was tossed off with the ease of long practice.

Sam hid her smile. “Colonel Samantha Carter United States Air Force.”

“Richard Castle.”

Sam didn’t do as well hiding her shock; she could feel her jaw drop slightly. “As in the novelist?”

“Oh good, you’ve heard of me.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Four days ago_

“Morning Dad,” Alexis greeted Castle as he entered the kitchen area.

“Morning sweetie,” Castle replied, kissing her head before heading for the coffee maker. “Ready for that test today?”

“Yep,” the high school student replied, looking up from her history notes. “What are you up to today?”

“Well, Beckett apparently has a backlog of paperwork to do, so I thought--”

The ringing of his cell phone cut him off. “Castle,” he stated, picking up. He listened for a moment. “Be there in a few.”

“Dead body?” Alexis asked as he hung up.

“Yep,” he replied. “Gotta run. Good luck on that test!”

“Thanks,” Alexis replied, but he was already out the door.

~~~~~

“Morning Castle,” Kate greeted the author as he entered the building.

“Good morning Detective,” he replied. “Which way to the body?”

Kate shook her head at his enthusiasm and led the way up the stairs. “We lucked out this time; we’re only going to the second floor.”

“That’s convenient.” They reached the landing and headed down the hall to where Ryan and Esposito were standing.

“Dude that is the sickest thing I’ve ever seen!” Ryan was saying.

“What is?” Castle asked.

Esposito nodded in the direction of the room. “That is.”

Kate exchanged a look with Castle before leading the way past the uniforms and into the room. Dr. Lanie Parish was already there, partially blocking the body from view as she crouched over it. “What’ve you got?” Kate asked her as they approached. Lanie turned around, revealing the body. Kate heard Castle’s startled “Holy--!” and had to agree.

Once, years ago, Kate’s mom had taken her to an exhibit of mummies at the American Museum of Natural History.

The body looked like something that belonged in that exhibit.

The bare torso and arms were withered, the skin petrified. The face was contorted with pain, the mouth open in a silent scream, the eyes gone leaving only the empty sockets behind. What hair was left was gray and brittle. The lower part of the body was clad in jeans and socks, but Kate was certain that the legs resembled the rest of the body. “Lanie?” she asked her friend.

“I have no idea,” the medical examiner replied. “The only wound I can find is a cut and series of indentations on the chest.” She motioned for Kate and Castle to move closer and pointed out the injuries with her pen. “I need to get him to the morgue for a closer examination.”

Kate nodded. “Give me a call when you have something.” She led Castle back to Ryan and Esposito. “What’ve you got for me?”

“You ready for this? Vic’s name is Vic.”

“What?” Kate looked at Esposito like he’d lost it.

“Victor Robinson,” Esposito continued by way of explanation. “According to the driver’s license we found, he was twenty-four.”

“A vic named Vic? That is just--” Castle shut up when he saw the glare Kate was directing at him.

“Mrs. Potter there,” Ryan gestured down the hall to where a woman in her late 40s was talking to a uniformed cop, “is a neighbor. She was coming home last night and saw Vic letting someone into the room.”

“Okay, have her come back to the station with us.”

~~~~~

“Mrs. Potter, how long had you know Mr. Robinson?”

Even after having observed her do this for several months, Rick Castle couldn’t help but be impressed with Beckett’s gentle manner in talking to friends and family of a victim. He found it to be one of her most endearing qualities.

“A little over a year. We moved into the building around the same time.” Mrs. Potter brushed her black hair behind her ear. “We’d talk in the hallway. I made him dinner two or three times a month.”

“So you were close?” Rick asked, doing his best to mimic Beckett’s tone.

“I guess you could say that. Vic reminded me of my son, and I think that he saw me as a surrogate mom.”

“He didn’t get along with his parents?” Beckett asked.

“It didn’t sound like it. He never really talked about them.”

“Do you know where they live?”

Mrs. Potter shook her head. “I’m sorry. But his brother lived with him for a couple of months; I think I still have his number.” She retrieved her wallet from her purse; a moment later she held out a slip of paper.

“The night that Vic died,” Beckett asked as Rick took the paper, “you said that you saw him letting someone into the apartment.”

“I got home from work around eight. When I came up the stairs I saw someone standing in the hall, and as I got closer Vic opened the door and let him in.”

“Did you see what the guy looked like?” Rick asked.

“Just his back as I passed the room. Vic said hi as he was closing the door, and I saw that his visitor was wearing a leather jacket and a hat.” Mrs. Potter looked apologetic.

“And it was you who called the police?” Beckett asked, checking her notes.

Mrs. Potter nodded. “I called Vic this morning because my sink was leaking again. He’s fixed it in the past until a plumber can take a look at it. When he didn’t answer his phone, I tried knocking on the door. When he didn’t answer I called the landlord who brought the spare key up. When we opened the door, we saw, we saw…” She was shaking, and Rick couldn’t blame her: those memories were the stuff of nightmares.

Beckett reached out and placed a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “We’ll catch the person who did this. I promise.” She waited until Mrs. Potter made eye contact before continuing. “Here’s my card. If you can think of anything else, please give me a call.”

Mrs. Potter nodded as the pair rose and exited the room. “Do you want me to stay while you call the brother?” he offered as they reached the detective’s desk.

“No thanks, Castle. It’s easier without an audience.”

“Okay.” Rick continued past the desk and made for the lounge, which was empty. Humming absently to himself, he set the espresso machine to make two cups. By the time he had added the appropriate amounts of cream and sugar and headed back towards her desk, Beckett was off the phone.

“Thanks,” she replied as she took the coffee he offered her. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

~~~~~

Going through the vic’s personal stuff always felt like an invasion of privacy to Detective Kevin Ryan. Yes, they were no longer alive, and yes, the detectives might find something that would lead to the killer, but still…

“Dude, check this out,” Esposito’s voice cut into his musings. “I’ve got an employee ID. Looks like Vic worked at Henson’s Costume Shop.”

“That explains this,” Ryan replied, motioning for Esposito to look into the closet. It was full of costumes, everything from the Phantom of the Opera to Wolverine. “Guess he liked his work.”

Esposito nodded as he pulled out his phone. Ryan turned back to the closet, pushing aside the costumes and examining the more normal clothing hanging near the end of the rail. He could hear Esposito talking to someone, likely Beckett, but with his head so far into the closet he couldn’t make out the words. He’d just finished going through the pockets on the last pair of pants when he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Find anything, bro?”

“Negative,” he replied, extracting himself from the tight space. “Not even a dry-cleaner’s tag.”

“Beckett wants us to head over to the costume shop and see what his coworkers can tell us. I figured that if we took this,” he held up a photo of two young men that had been found on the dresser, “they can tell us which person is Vic.”

“Good idea.” Ryan peeled off his gloves as they exited the apartment and headed down the stairs. “I’m driving,” he informed his partner as they reached the car.

“Says who?” Esposito demanded, reaching into his pants pocket.

“Says the man with the keys,” he retorted, dangling them in front of Esposito’s face.

The other detective rolled his eyes and climbed in the passenger seat. “You’re lucky I’m not Beckett. You pick her pocket, she’ll break your fingers.”

“But as you pointed out, you’re not her.” Ryan grinned at his pal as he pulled into traffic. The ride was surprisingly short, even with the typical New York traffic; it was only about fifteen minutes before they were passing the shop.

“There’s a spot.” Esposito pointed to the right. Two minutes later, car parked and locked, the pair were strolling into the store.

~~~~~

“Well, we know what our vic looks like.” Kate looked up as Esposito and Ryan entered the bullpen.

“The vic named Vic?” Noticing her glare, Castle subsided into his chair, pantomiming zipping his mouth.

Kate looked back at Esposito as he passed over a photo. “The guy on the left.” The person in the photo was a young man with green eyes and a wide smile. His blond hair was cut short, barely brushing the tops of his ears, and his arm was slung around the shoulders of the other young man.

“Do we know who the other guy is?”

“Girl at the shop thinks it’s his brother. She says that she saw him a couple of times.”

Kate stood up from her desk and made her way to the murder board. “Well, he’s coming in tomorrow, so we’ll see for ourselves,” she said as she hung the photo. “Did you find anything else out?”

“Vic worked at the shop since he moved to the city about a year ago,” Ryan said. “According to the manager, a Miss Elizabeth Goldman, he was one of their best employees.”

“What about his coworkers?”

“They all loved him. Even his ex.”

“Wait,” Castle interjected. “His ex?”

“Casey Connelly. According to their coworkers, they broke up a couple of months ago.”

“Let’s get her in here.”

Ryan winced. “That’s going to be a problem.”

“Why?” Kate asked.

“She’s on vacation,” Esposito answered. “Manager says she had plans to visit family overseas. She’s due back in a couple of days.”


	3. Chapter 3

The following morning, Rick arrived at the station to find Beckett already there, typing away at the computer. “Did you even go home?” he asked her. She didn’t even bother to reply, merely glaring at him. “Anything new turn up?” he changed the subject.

“CSU finished at the apartment. There’s no trace of the mysterious visitor, but the building’s security camera in the front lobby yielded this.” She passed him a printout that clearly showed the lobby area of the SRO. Standing off to the side was a person in jeans and a leather jacket. His right hand was lifting a hat off of his head, probably to readjust its position. The quality wasn’t the best, but Rick could start to make out a face.

“Couldn’t we get a better picture?” The words were barely out of his mouth before Beckett passed him an enhanced close-up. “Wow, he is creepy looking.” He looked up in time to catch Beckett rolling her eyes as she turned back to the computer screen. He smiled to himself; “participate and annoy” was _definitely_ the most fun.

“Beckett,” Detective Karpowski’s voice broke in, drawing Rick’s attention as well. “Your vic’s brother is here.”

~~~~~

The young man standing by the elevator was pretty ordinary looking: t-shirt covered by a plaid button-down, jeans, hiking boots, short brown hair, neatly trimmed brown goatee. Except for his eyes. They were anything but ordinary: piercing ice blue, constantly taking in his surroundings, evaluating everything. Yet even with the incessant movement, Kate could clearly see the anguish.

“Mr. Robinson, I’m Detective Beckett,” she said, offering her hand. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Peter,” he introduced himself. His handshake was firm.

Kate motioned for him to follow her into the lounge. As they entered, Castle straightened up from his place by the window. “Peter Robinson, this is Rick Castle.”

The young man smiled sadly as he shook the novelist’s hand. “Vic was a big fan of yours, sir.”

Kate stifled a smile at the look on Castle’s face; he either wasn’t sure how to react to the news that the dead guy had been a fan, or he wasn’t sure about being called “sir”. “Mr. Robinson,” she spoke, directing him to one of the couches, “when did you last hear from your brother?”

“About two days ago. We call each other once a week just to check in.”

“We spoke to your brother’s neighbor, Mrs. Potter,” Kate informed him. “She said that he never mentioned your parents.”

The look in Peter’s eyes spoke volumes. “Our parents disowned me ten years ago, Detective. They haven’t spoken to Vic in eight years because he insists…insist _ed_ on staying in touch with me.”

“What?” Castle’s shocked tone caused Kate to glare at him, even though inwardly she agreed. “Sorry,” the author told the others. “I don’t mean to pry,” he continued to the young man, “but what on Earth would cause your folks to do those things?”

“They think that I’m a freak.”

“Why?” Castle pressed. Kate took a breath to reprimand him, but Peter’s next statement cut her off.

“Because they believed that they had a daughter and a son.”

“You mean…?”

“Yes, Mr. Castle. I was born a girl.”

Kate had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes at the surprised look on the author’s face. Okay, the young man’s statement had surprised her, too, but she had kept her poker face intact. “So your parents stopped talking to Vic when he insisted on acknowledging you as a man?” Peter nodded. “Why did you move in with your brother?”

“I work as a stagehand and stage manager. I got hired to work as the manager for a new Off-Broadway show, and Vic offered that I could stay with him.”

“How well did you know your brother’s friends and coworkers?”

Peter shrugged. “I knew everyone at the shop, but was friendly with only a couple of them.”

“What can you tell us about your brother’s relationships with them?”

“Vic was one of those people that everyone liked. Even if the didn’t agree with him, they couldn’t help but like him.”

“Even his ex?” Castle questioned.

The young man shrugged again. “Vic said that it was an amicable split, but I haven’t spoken to Casey since about a month after I left.”

Kate felt her brows furrow. “Why did you talk to her then?”

“Vic had strep throat. I called to check on him, and Casey answered because she was staying over to keep an eye on him. I talked to him just a couple of days later, and he said that she had been wonderful.”

Kate jotted a couple of notes to herself as Peter spoke. “Okay,” she nodded. “When you spoke to your brother a couple of nights ago, what did you talk about?”

“I told him how the play was doing, he told me how things were at the shop.”

“Did he mention anything that seemed odd?”

“Just that Connor had been by the shop again.”

Castle beat her to the punch. “Who’s Connor?”

“This guy that’s been hanging around the shop a lot lately. He started coming around about two, two and a half months ago.”

“Why did your brother notice him?” Kate inquired. “I’m sure he saw dozens of customers on a weekly basis.”

“The first day Connor came in, Vic noticed him because he was wearing really mismatched clothes: holey jeans, ratty t-shirt, long black leather coat, black fedora…” Kate traded an astonished look with Castle, causing Peter to trail off. “What is it, Detective?”

“Peter, did you ever see a photo of Connor?” Kate asked, digging into the file folder she’d brought with her.

“Yeah, why?”

She’d found what she was looking for. “Is this him?” She passed over the enhanced still from the security tape.

Peter accepted the photo. “Yes, it is.” He looked up at Kate. “Where did you get this?”

“It’s from the security camera in the lobby of your brother’s apartment. One of our techs pulled this still from the tape.”

“When was the tape from?” The young man’s ice blue eyes bored into Kate’s, seeking an answer.

“The tape was from the night that your brother died,” she admitted. “A neighbor of your brother’s said that she had seen someone matching Connor’s description at your brother’s door, so we got a warrant for the security footage.”

Peter closed his eyes. Kate felt for him, having been in the same position herself, but she had to do her job. “You were describing the clothes Connor wore on his first visit to the shop,” she prompted.

“The thing that really caught Vic’s attention was the scarf,” Peter continued without opening his eyes. “Between that and the hat, only Connor’s eyes were visible. Vic said that he seemed on edge, as if he wasn’t used to people. He came straight to the counter, and asked Vic for help.”

“Help with what?” Castle inquired. Kate glared at him, but Peter answered the question before she could say anything.

“According to Vic, Connor said that he’d been injured in a fire, and needed make-up to cover the scars on his face. Vic was happy to help, and worked with him for an hour or so. He told me Connor had trouble with his money, which made Vic think that he was foreign.”

Kate nodded as she took notes on a tablet in her lap. “Was there anything else that Vic told you about Connor?”

“He said that Connor rarely spoke, but when he did, there was a grating quality to his voice. Vic said that he thought that the smoke from the fire had damaged Connor’s vocal cords. He also told me that Connor wore gloves, and didn’t take them off even to pay.”

Kate raised an eyebrow as she wrote down this new information. “You said that Vic had mentioned Connor had stopped by ‘again’. How often did your brother see him?”

“From what I understood, about once a week. Connor was definitely new to the city, and Vic sort of took him under his wing. Showed him where to find a place to stay, helped him pick out some decent clothes, and kept him supplied with make-up to cover the scars. Heck, he even helped him find a job.”

“Where?” Castle asked, once more beating Kate to a question.

Peter finally opened his eyes. “Over in the old factory district. I don’t know exactly where.”

Kate finished writing down the last statement. “Thank you for all of the information Peter. Will you be in town the next few days?”

“Yeah,” the young man nodded. “I need to clean out Vic’s apartment.”

Kate reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m incredibly sorry,” she told him, knowing that he could hear the sincerity in her voice. “If you need anything, feel free to call me.” She produced one of her cards and passed it over.

“Thanks Detective,” he told her, rising from his seat. “I’ll see myself out.” And he did just that.

~~~~~

“So what did you get from the brother?”

It was mid-afternoon. Rick was sitting with Beckett at her desk, annoying her while she worked on paperwork. Ryan and Esposito had just gotten back from questioning employees at the costume shop who hadn’t been there the previous day.

“We have a name for our suspect,” Beckett answered Esposito’s question. “Connor Jones. No bank accounts, no criminal records, no Social Security number, nothing.”

“Do we have a photo?” Ryan asked.

Anticipating Beckett’s next move, Rick reached for the video still and passed it over to the other detectives. “What?” he asked innocently when Beckett glared at him.

Her reply was cut off by Ryan’s voice. “That is one creepy looking dude.”

“That’s what I said!” Rick exclaimed, turning to the other man. “Didn’t I?” he asked, facing Beckett again.

She was still glaring at him. “Did you guys find out anything else at the shop?”

“Just that all of the other current employees loved Vic as much as the people we talked to yesterday do,” Esposito replied.

“What do you mean ‘current’ employees?”

Rick loved watching Beckett’s eyes light up when she got a fresh lead; but of course if he ever told her that she’d shoot him.

“Seems another employee had a personality conflict with Vic.” Ryan consulted his notepad. “Uh, Stanley Edison. He was fired about a month ago.”

“Run him down. Anything else?”

“We also found out that Vic’s ex gets in later tonight.”

“Give her a call and leave a message for her to call us back tomorrow.”

“Will do.” The two detectives headed back to their desks.

“Castle.” Rick turned back to Beckett. “Why don’t you head home? I’m just finishing up paperwork.”

“Are you sure?” Rick didn’t like to leave her after she’d met the family; he could tell how it affected her.

“Positive. Go spend time with your daughter.”

“Okay,” Rick told her, getting up reluctantly from his chair. “But if you need anything—someone to bounce ideas off of, food that doesn’t come out of a vending machine, a back massage--”

“Castle!”

“I’m going! I’m going!”


	4. Chapter 4

Kate finally left for home an hour or so after she chased Castle out. Typically for when she was working on a particularly tough case, she spent a good half-hour lying in bed trying to sort through everything. Finally, she used a deep-breathing exercise to clear her head and drop off to sleep.

Six hours later, she woke suddenly. This happened from time to time, so rather than curse at the fact that she’d woken an hour before her alarm was due to go off, she merely sighed, got up, and began her morning routine.

Two hours later, she was seated in front of the murder board, her mind once again chasing leads in circles. She heard footsteps behind her, and a cup of espresso appeared from over her right shoulder. “Thanks Castle,” she told the writer as he sat down next to her.

“Anything new?”

She shook her head before taking a sip from the cup, which was lightly sweetened by hot milk. While Kate liked her no-fat latte with two pumps of vanilla, she preferred her espresso close to unadulterated. “I’m stumped,” she admitted. “I still think that this Connor is our best bet, but I don’t want to rule anything out until we talk to the ex-girlfriend and the other employee.”

She looked over at Castle, who was nodding his head in agreement. He’d just opened his mouth to say something when Esposito walked up. “Casey Connelly just arrived, Boss. She’s in the lounge.”

Kate nodded her thanks and headed for the indicated room, Castle trailing behind her. “Ms. Connelly? I’m Detective Kate Beckett.” She offered her hand to the young woman.

“I found your message last night when I got home. What’s happened?”

Even if she’d not already known it, Kate would have quickly figured out that the person sitting in front of her had just recently arrived from a long flight: medium-length red hair slightly disheveled and clothing that had been straightened hastily. Surprisingly, though, her green eyes were clear and alert.

“Ms. Connelly, we understand that you were in a relationship with Victor Robinson--”

“What’s happened to him?” The young woman cut Kate off.

“Can you tell us why you two broke up?” Kate persisted. She hated doing this, especially as she was 99.99% sure that the girl didn’t have anything to do with the murder. But she had to be 100% positive.

“We realized that we just weren’t as good a fit as we’d first thought.”

“How so?” Castle queried.

Connelly shrugged. “Little things. Vic did a lot of volunteer work, and it started to follow him home.”

“What do you mean?” Kate had a feeling she knew where this was going.

“Well, he spent time in the hospitals, playing with the kids and showing surgery patients how to cover up their scars. He’d also go out of his way to help someone who came into the shop with a hard-luck story.”

“Like Connor?”

If Casey was surprised by their knowledge, she hid it well. “Like Connor,” she agreed. “I’m all for helping others,” she continued, “but Connor was…creepy.”

Kate deliberately avoided Castle’s gaze. “What exactly do you mean by ‘creepy’?”

The younger woman shrugged again. “I dunno. I didn’t like how he was always looking at everyone, like he was wondering what we’d taste like. And he was so quiet. And when he did talk, his voice was always raspy…” She trailed off. “What does this have to do with Vic? Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Kate was sure now. “I’m sorry, Ms. Connelly. We found Vic’s body a few days ago. He was murdered.”

The young woman deserved a lot of credit: she didn’t break down completely. Her breath caught, and her eyes misted. A couple of tears trickled down her cheeks as she glanced away. She took three deep breaths and turned her attention back to the detective. “How?”

“We’re still looking into that,” Kate replied. “Is there anything else that you can tell us about Connor?”

The younger woman shook her head. “I haven’t seen him since before I broke up with Vic.” She blinked a couple of times, and then swiped at her eyes when that didn’t work. “Have you told his brother?”

Castle nodded. “He’s in town to clean out the apartment.”

“Good.” Connelly’s head dropped for a few moments. “Do you need anything else from me?” she finally asked.

“You’re free to go,” Kate assured her. “But please stay in town until we talk again.”

The other woman met her gaze. “Of course,” she responded, gathering up her coat. Less than ten seconds later, she was gone.

~~~~~

While Beckett talked to the ex-girlfriend, Javier Esposito was seated at his desk, searching the police databases for anything on Stanley Edison, when Ryan spoke up. “Got him. Stanley Edison, currently employed as a costume designer at an Off-Broadway theater.”

“Got an address?”

“Yep,” Ryan held up a slip of paper. “I’m driving!”

“Whatever,” Javier rolled his eyes as he pulled on his coat. If Ryan wanted to deal with the lunch-hour traffic, that was fine by Javier.

When they finally arrived at the theater, Ryan was grumbling about his fellow drivers. Javier just smirked at his partner and led the way up to the stage door. “NYPD,” he told the doorman, flashing his badge. “I’m looking for Stanley Edison.”

“Try the backstage area,” the doorman said. “Straight ahead.”

“Thanks,” Ryan replied, leading the way. Javier nodded his thanks as he passed before switching his focus to not running into anyone. The whole offstage area was a scene of organized chaos: actors and actresses running everywhere in various states of dress, often without make-up, people in black who had to be stage crew moving furniture from what appeared to be a storage area, a couple of people running after actors, still pinning costumes. Javier thought briefly about grabbing his partner’s jacket to keep up with him, but no sooner had he thought this than they arrived on-stage. “I think that’s our guy,” Ryan said.

Javier saw who his partner meant: standing in the middle of the stage, gesturing so wildly that he was in serious danger of hurting someone with that clipboard, was a young man engaged in a heated discussion with a much older woman.

“I’m telling you it WON’T WORK,” he told her as the detectives got closer. “The fastest way for the bed to get where it needs to be is for it to start stage right and get pulled across to center stage!” He gestured again with the clipboard, nearly catching Ryan in the nose.

“Watch where you swing that thing, Edison!” the woman barked. “Sorry gentlemen, but this is a closed rehears—Kevin? Kevin Ryan?”

Startled, Javier looked over at his partner just in time to see Ryan’s face drain of color. “M-m-Mrs. Stuart?”

Javier looked back and forth between the two. “You know her, bro?”

“I directed Kevin in four separate high school theatre productions,” the woman, Mrs. Stuart, said. “He had talent too. Then he decided to become a _police officer_.”

“Actually,” Javier broke in, “he’s a detective. As am I.” He held up the badge. “NYPD. We need to talk to Mr. Edison.”

~~~~~

“Wait wait wait. You’re telling me that Vic Robinson is _dead_?”

On each of the last four words, Stanley Edison’s voice went higher and higher so that it actually cracked on the last syllable. Kevin Ryan winced in pain before he responded. “Yes Mr. Edison. Can you tell us where you were two nights ago?”

Edison looked confused. “I was right here, in the middle of a dress re—wait wait wait, you don’t think _I_ had any thing to do with this do you?”

“Now why would we think that?” Esposito asked.

“Look,” Kevin spoke up before Edison could get going again. “We spoke to the other employees at the costume shop. They seemed to think that the two of you didn’t get along so well.”

Edison brought the clipboard towards his own face so fast, Kevin was sure he was going to hit himself. Amazingly, the clipboard stopped just short of his forehead. “They would.” The voice was muffled but audible.

“What do you mean?” Kevin pressed.

Edison’s eyes appeared over the clipboard, scanning their surroundings. The men had moved down to the seats so that they could have a semi-private conversation. Finally convinced that no one was around, Edison lowered the clipboard away from his face. “He rejected me.”

“Excuse me?” Kevin asked just to make sure he’d heard correctly.

Unfortunately, Edison mistook this as interest. “I know, right? How could he reject _me_? How could _anyone_ reject me?”

Thankfully, Esposito cut him off mid-rant. “So what happened after Vic rejected you? You two fight?”

Edison slumped in his chair. “I kept trying to talk to him, try and make him see that we’d be great together. But he wouldn’t listen. Then he stopped working the same shift as me. Then he stopped speaking to me altogether…” He gave a dramatic sniff, prompting Kevin and Esposito to exchange a look. “Well, let’s just say that when I heard Amy was looking for a stage manager, I jumped at the chance to leave the shop.”

“Really,” Kevin commented, “because according to Ms. Goldman you were fired for not doing your job.”

“That bitch,” Edison said. “She never liked me. Did you know we were up for the same manager position two years ago? She got it, but I know she didn’t like the fact that I was still around. She’s been looking for an excuse to get rid of me ever since.”

Kevin repressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Have you seen Vic Robinson since you left the shop?”

“No,” Edison replied. “I’ve been here,” he gestured towards the stage with the clipboard, “since the day after I left, sometimes twenty hours a day. My apartment’s only a few blocks away. I haven’t had any reason to go back to the costume shop.”

“Okay Mr. Edison,” Esposito said. “We’ll be in touch.” The stage manager practically ran back on stage, while Kevin followed his partner back through the backstage area and out onto the street.

“What a drama queen,” Kevin commented as the pair of them climbed into the car.

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure he’s harmless,” Esposito stated. “He was way too surprised to hear the Vic was dead.”

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed as he maneuvered the car into traffic. “Looks like this Connor character is still our best bet.”

“Beckett will be glad to hear that. Speaking of characters,” Esposito turned to look at his partner, “what’s this about you doing theatre?”

Kevin groaned.

~~~~~

Ryan’s and Esposito’s interview with the ex-employee was the last productive thing the team managed that day. As Rick left, Beckett was still making phone calls, trying to find the whereabouts of Connor Jones. If it hadn’t been his turn to cook dinner, Rick would have offered to stay.

Actually, he would have skipped the offer and just stayed. If he’d offered, Beckett would have insisted that he go, and where was the fun in that? Besides, he told himself as he took the elevator up to his apartment, it was valuable research for the character of Nikki Heat. Sure, the first book was almost done, but he had a terrific idea for a second….

Thoughts of the plot for a potential second Nikki Heat novel could only occupy him for so long, and by the time he’d started dinner, he’d gone back to thinking about the current case. Unlike most of their previous cases, it had been pretty obvious from the first that the mysterious Connor was responsible for the victim’s death. But what kind of horrendous weapon could turn a person into a mummified corpse in a matter of hours?

“Dad!” Alexis’s voice brought him back to reality. “Dad! Guess what!” The teen was running towards the counter, waving a paper in her hand.

“What?”

“I got an A!” She ran around the counter and wrapped her arms around him in a hug that knocked the wind out of him.

“Ho! Congratulations sweetie!” He wrapped his arms around her. “See, I told you you’d do fine.”

Alexis pulled away from her father. “How’s the investigation going?” she asked as she set her bag on the table and headed for the cupboard where the dishes were kept. “Any new leads?”

“Not really,” Rick told her as he stirred the pasta. “Ryan and Esposito managed to track down the former employee who had a problem with the vic--”

“The vic named Vic?”

Rick looked over to see her innocent face. “Oh I have taught you well.”

She grinned in return and began to set the table. “So what was this guy’s problem with the vic?”

“Well apparently, the ex-employee, who’s now a stage manager, asked our victim to be his boyfriend.”

“I thought you said the victim had a girlfriend.”

“Oh he did. He rejected the stage manager, who apparently became rather huffy. He was fired by the shop manager for basically being a drama queen about the whole thing. Pasta’s ready,” he told her.

“So that leaves you with the creepy guy, right?” Alexis asked as she served herself.

Rick nodded as he piled food on his own plate. “Beckett’s still trying to track him down.”

“And she sent you home because you were annoying her,” Alexis stated, lifting a forkful of food to her mouth.

Rick shot her an innocent look, but the knowing glance he got in return meant she knew better than that. “Maybe,” he replied, deciding it was time for a subject change. “How was school today?”

As his daughter related all the latest high school gossip, Rick had to smile. It was nice to know that, even with missing suspects, weird murders, and unknown motives, he still had a (somewhat) normal life to come home to.


	5. Chapter 5

Once again, Kate had stayed late at the precinct. By the time she realized what time it was, she’d been too tired to safely drive home, so she crashed on the break room couch.

It felt like she’d barely closed her eyes when someone shook her awake. “Boss? Boss!”

Kate sat bolt upright, instinctively reaching for her gun before realizing that it was only Esposito. “What is it?” she asked, fighting the urge to glare at him. After all, it wasn’t his fault that she’d only gotten—she glanced at her watch—four hours of sleep.

“We’ve got Connor.”

The adrenaline rush cleared Kate’s brain faster than the strongest espresso. “Get the team--”

“Already done,” Esposito told her as they raced out of the break room. Ryan was waiting in the elevator, holding the door open for his partner and boss.

As she jumped in, Kate pulled out her cell phone and punched the number three speed dial on her phone. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised when he picked up after only one ring. “Castle, we’ve got Connor.”

~~~~~

Of course he managed to get to the address before she did. Kate didn’t bother with telling him to wait in the car; she’d learned over the last few months that he’d follow even if, maybe _especially_ if, she told him to wait in the car. She couldn’t quite suppress her eye-roll as he pulled on his custom-made bullet-proof vest, and she swore the smile on his face was directed right at her. “Okay,” she addressed the whole team, deciding to ignore the writer for now and passing around the enlarged video still of Connor. “We don’t know what he’s capable of, so _be careful_. That means you, Castle,” she addressed the writer as the rest of the cops headed off to their entry points.

“When am I ever anything else?” he asked.

She refused to answer that, and turned her back to him so he didn’t see her smirking to herself. Trust Castle to make her smile right before she took down a murderer. Ryan and Esposito were already at their entry point, and Kate pulled her sidearm as she came up beside them. “We’re good to go, Boss,” Esposito told her.

She nodded to him to start the countdown via the radio; she was already focusing on what she had to do.

“Go go go!” Esposito barked.

The door fell to the battering ram wielded by two of the other cops, clearing the way for Kate and the others. Gun at the ready, she led the charge through the front, her senses extending to cover not only her team but the building around them as well.

Within a minute, another team radioed that they’d found the guy’s living area, but he was nowhere in sight. The whole building was a maze, though, so until each and every nook and cranny had been examined, the suspect could still be here. Kate and her team had already passed by several office suites; when they reached the next intersection, Kate motioned for Ryan and Esposito to head left while she lead Castle off to the right.

With each passing minute, and the continuing negative reports from the other teams, Kate had to fight the urge to relax. _It’s not over yet_ , she kept repeating to herself. She and Castle had reached the end of the building and were doubling back to meet up with the others when she heard something fall off to her left.

Her gun snapped back to the ready as she spun towards the source of the noise. There, crouching in the shadows of a shelving unit, was the suspect.

They stared at one another for a long moment before Kate’s training kicked in. "Freeze! Police!”

Of course, he did just the opposite, bolting away from her down the hall and through a door that she hadn’t seen. Kate was not ten feet behind him as she hit the door, and she heard the bang as Castle hit it right behind her. She took off after the suspect, and was beginning to gain on him when her feet nearly went out from under her.

“Castle!” Detective Kate Beckett yelled after the man in the bullet-proof vest that proclaimed “WRITER” as he passed her. Cursing under her breath, she got her balance back and took off down the alley.

“Castle!” she called again.

“I got him! I got him!” The novelist kept going, and despite her best efforts Kate was having a hard time catching up.

In any other part of New York, this long alley would be odd, but not in a neighborhood of old factories. The worst part was the alleys were a mess of old dumpsters, wooden crates, and God only knew what else. It was this mess that had caused Kate to lose her balance. Something had tripped her, and while she hadn’t fallen, she had stumbled into a wall long enough for Castle to blast past her, hell bent on being the hero.

“Castle!” Kate knew that the man wasn’t listening; it was just reflex, trying to get a clear shot. But the suspect was moving too quickly; it was all she could do to try to keep up. How Castle was managing to actually gain on the guy was a mystery.

Then it happened.

The alley dead-ended. The guy started climbing the chain-link. At first, Kate thought that her eyes were playing tricks on her: the guy seemed to be glowing. Then Castle caught up to him, reached up and grabbed the guy’s ankle. The glow intensified and encompassed Castle, too.

“Castle!” Squinting, Kate made it to the end of the alley as the glare faded. There was no sign of the suspect or…

“Castle!”

~~~~~

“What do you mean he disappeared?” Captain Roy Montgomery was _not_ in a good mood, and Kate couldn’t really blame him. When Esposito and Ryan had finally caught up to her and heard her story, they had been ready to haul her to a doctor to get her head checked. After a heated discussion, mostly on her part, they’d agreed to simply take her back to the station. Now she was seated in her boss’s office, repeating her story.

“As I said, sir, he and the suspect disappeared in a flash of light. I don’t know what happened beyond that.”

“Sounds like one of our weirder missing person reports,” Esposito chimed in.

“Or a really bad sci-fi novel,” Ryan muttered.

Inwardly, Kate admitted that they both had a point. But she knew what she had seen. “Sir,” she addressed the captain, “I know it sounds crazy, but that is exactly what happened, and I’m requesting permission to return to the alley and look for clues.”

“You really think you’re going to find something?”

Kate paused a moment before answering. “I don’t know sir.”

The Captain held her gaze for a long moment. “Okay,” he told her.

It took Kate a moment to realize what he’d said. “Thank you sir.”

~~~~~

_“Carter,”_ General Jack O’Neill’s image said, _“please tell me you caught the Wraith.”_

“We caught the Wraith,” Colonel Samantha Carter told him.

_“But?”_ Not much got past the man. Then again, he had been her superior for the better part of twelve years.

“We also managed to pick up a hitchhiker,” she admitted.

_“How the hell did you manage that?”_

“He apparently grabbed the Wraith’s ankle right before we beamed it out of there.”

_“Why would anyone willingly touch one of those things?”_

Sam took a deep breath before she answered. “Apparently the Wraith is wanted for murder.”

Amusement, incredulity, and curiosity warred briefly on O’Neill’s face. _“And who, pray tell, wants the slimy thing for murder?”_

“The NYPD,” Sam replied. She was very glad that this conversation was taking place in her ready room and _not_ the bridge of the _Hammond_. Rumors about the identity of the hitchhiker were already starting to circulate, and she could only imagine how much chatter would be generated if more of the story got out.

_“The NYPD?”_ O’Neill’s voice cut into her thoughts. _“Who exactly is this hitchhiker you picked up?”_

“Richard Castle.”

_“As in the writer?”_

“Yes sir. He’s apparently following an NYPD homicide detective right now as research for his next novel.”

O’Neill shut his eyes and took a deep breath, and Sam couldn’t blame him. It had been bad enough when they’d found out that some Wraith had survived the destruction of the super hive three months ago. Luckily, most of them had been rounded up with minimal fuss. But for one to have been living in New York all this time, and to now be wanted for murder, meant a _lot_ of paperwork. And if there was one thing O’Neill hated, it was paperwork. _“Okay,”_ he finally said, opening his eyes. _“I’m going to get Landry to send a team to New York, see what they can recover from where you beamed the Wraith out. Where are you keeping Mr. Castle?”_

“He’s currently in the brig, sir.”

O’Neill scowled. _“As much as I hate to say it, he can’t stay there. Move him to guest quarters and keep him there until this mess is straightened out.”_

“Yes sir,” Sam replied. “May I ask who you’ll borrow from General Landry?”

_“I figured I’d see if SG-1 is available,”_ O’Neill told her, a faint smile on his lips. _“I imagine that they’re going a little crazy right now."_

Sam smiled at the characteristic understatement. With Atlantis on Earth and the Ori threat taken care of for the time being, gate travel was being carefully monitored, mostly to appease the IOA. The organization had been howling about the increased security concerns with the City of the Ancients floating just outside San Francisco Bay, so Generals Landry and O’Neill had agreed that they’d reroute personnel from the SGC to Atlantis to assist with maintenance of the city’s cloak. (There was also a practical reason for this, as the Atlantis gate superseded the gate at the SGC, and the workaround McKay and Sam had created was having problems of late.) SG-1 had been among the teams temporarily assigned to the city, and while Daniel was likely in heaven, Sam could just imagine how Cam, Teal’c, and, particularly, Vala were reacting to their situation. “Sounds good, sir,” she replied. “Will you need me to transport them to New York?”

_“I’ll let you know,”_ he promised. _“O’Neill out.”_

The screen switched over to a display of the _Hammond_ ’s current status. Smiling to herself, Sam headed out onto the bridge. “Major,” she spoke to her second-in-command, “please see to it that the guest quarters on level 15 are ready.”

“Yes ma’am,” the major responded as Sam headed for her chair and pushed a button on the armrest.

“Colonel Carter to the brig,” Sam called into the intercom radio.

_“Sergeant Peters here, ma’am.”_

“Sergeant, please escort Mr. Castle to the guest quarters on level 15 and post a guard outside his door.”

_“Yes ma’am.”_

“Carter out.”

“Ma’am,” Major Marks spoke up, “we have an incoming transmission from the SGC.”

“On screen,” Sam said, striding over to the wall.

_“Colonel Carter,”_ General Landry greeted her, a smile on his face.

“General,” Sam smiled in return.

_“SG-1 have been recalled from Atlantis. They will be at the drop point in San Francisco in a half-hour. Your orders are to beam them to the Hammond, brief them on the situation, and then beam them to New York.”_

“Understood. Sir, why didn’t General O’Neill call?”

_“He was called to immediately brief the Joint Chiefs on the situation.”_

She tried, but Sam couldn’t quite suppress the wince that crept across her face. That would _not_ be a pleasant meeting. Part of her wished she could be there to support O’Neill, and the other part of her was glad she was safely several thousands of miles out of reach.

General Landry seemed to know what she was thinking; the smile widened fractionally. _“You have your orders Colonel. Landry out.”_ The screen blanked.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Kate reached the old factory again, all that remained of the earlier operation was crime scene tape across all of the doors and a cop car across the street. Kate pulled in behind the latter; an officer approached as she exited her car.

“Detective Beckett,” Kate introduced herself, flashing her badge. The officer nodded and stepped aside. Kate pulled on a pair of gloves as she ducked under the tape, making for the end of the alley where Castle and the suspect had disappeared.

Thirty minutes later, Kate sighed as she stood up. There was absolutely nothing on the ground at the end of the alley to show how Castle and the suspect had disappeared in a burst of light. Not that she’d been expecting to find much, but she felt like there should have been _something_. Sighing, she headed back down the alley for the side door into the factory. She remembered roughly where the suspect’s living area had been inside; maybe she’d find something there.

She must have been more shaken by Castle’s disappearance than she would care to admit, because it took her almost another half hour to find the living area.

Unfortunately, someone else had beaten her there.

As she finally approached the door, she heard a voice, and it was definitely _not_ Ryan or Esposito. “C’mon, Teal’c,” it said, “I don’t think we’re going to find anything else here.”

Training had caused Kate to draw her sidearm, but now curiosity drove her to quietly enter the room. Through the door into the kitchen, she could see a tall man moving around, carefully shutting cabinets that he had probably opened. He was dressed in olive green jacket and pants that looked suspiciously like a military uniform. As he turned to the side, Kate caught a glimpse of glasses. “Teal’c?” he called. Kate realized that it was his voice she’d first heard. He seemed to be calling for a partner, and Kate realized that she hadn’t located this other person just before she heard the squeak of shoe-on-floor behind her. With the speed of long training, she spun to her right, bringing her elbow up to hit her assailant’s nose.

_THWACK!_ Instead of hitting and injuring a nose, Kate’s elbow was stopped by a very strong hand. Kate side-stepped to her left, trying to twist her arm out of her opponent’s grasp. Her opponent was too strong and too fast; before her elbow came free another hand had removed the gun from her grasp and twisted her left arm around behind her, effectively pinning her.

The other man came out of the kitchen with a 9-mil drawn and ready. “Oh boy,” he said as he looked at Kate.

~~~~~

Dr. Daniel Jackson was not having a good day.

SG-1’s current assignment on Atlantis had been fun, at first. He’d gotten to explore more of the city than his previous trips had allowed, and it was nice to see everyone again, even Rodney. But weeks of listening to the IOA’s bellyaching about security had been wearing. Also, the longer she was cooped up in the city, the crazier Vala had gotten. Of course, she took out this excess energy on him. If General Landry hadn’t contacted them when they had, Daniel would have called the General and begged for something, _anything_ , to get rid of the former thief.

Of course, beaming up to the _Hammond_ had not exactly been what Daniel had had in mind, especially when Sam told them how _her_ week had been.

“Let me get this straight,” Cam had said in the briefing, “you managed to hunt down the last of the Wraith that bailed out to Earth, and captured him, only to discover he was wanted by the NYPD for _murder_?”

Sam had nodded. “General O’Neill wants us to do what we can to get the investigation halted, but because of Mr. Castle that will be more difficult.”

In the end, it was decided that Cam and Vala would stay on the _Hammond_ to help with interrogating the Wraith and compiling data while Daniel and Teal’c were beamed down to the old factory where the Wraith had apparently been living all this time. They’d been searching the “apartment” (for lack of a better word) for about half an hour, and had found clothing, make-up, prosthetic teeth… in short, everything a Wraith needed to pass as a human. Teal’c agreed to bundle these items up while Daniel went to search the kitchen and dining room. He was only in there for about ten minutes before he realized that there was nothing of value; sighing, he called to his friend. “C’mon, Teal’c, I don’t think we’re going to find anything else here.”

It took Daniel a second to realize that there had been no answer and that his friend hadn’t appeared. “Teal’c?” he called, turning his head to the side, listening. As he said it, the sounds of a scuffle erupted from behind him. Hastily drawing his sidearm, Daniel spun around, only to find Teal’c disarming a tall woman. “Oh boy,” Daniel muttered as he exited the kitchen, keeping the woman covered. Just what they needed: a witness.

This would have been bad enough if he and Teal’c had been in street clothes, but since they’d beamed directly into the apartment, and had planned to beam right back up when they were done, the pair was still in their BDUs, complete with unit patches. Almost worse, Teal’c didn’t have a hat to hide his Jaffa brand.

“Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c broke into his thoughts, “I believe that you should lower your weapon.”

Daniel realized that his 9-mil was pointed squarely at the woman’s chest. Hastily, he lowered it. “Sorry about that,” he told her.

“No problem.” For someone in a Jaffa submission hold, she was surprisingly calm. Then again, most Tau’ri didn’t know what a Jaffa was, or what one could do. “No offense, but could you tell your friend to loosen his grip? My arm’s starting to fall asleep.”

Daniel cocked an eyebrow at his friend. Teal’c raised his own eyebrow in return but did let her go. Daniel was relieved to notice, however, that he held on to the woman’s gun.

“Thanks,” the woman told Daniel as she rubbed her left arm. She looked over her shoulder at Teal’c, and while Daniel couldn’t see her face, the slight stiffening of her shoulders was clear indication of her startled reaction to the Jaffa. “Normally I’d ask for ID,” she finally said, turning back around, “but in this case I’m not sure I want to know.”

“It’s classified anyway,” Daniel replied. Technically, _his_ identity wasn’t, but Teal’c’s was, and either way, it saved him a lot of talking. “But I would like to know who you are.”

The woman slowly reached for her jacket and withdrew a shiny police shield. “Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD.”

Daniel hadn’t thought his day could get much worse. But it just had.

~~~~~

In his decade of living among the Tau’ri, Teal’c had participated in enough investigations that he knew how important the local law enforcement could be. Simultaneously, he had also learned how important it was that the SGC’s mission not be revealed to those same people, even when it might seem to be a good idea. Such was the case now.

Daniel Jackson was thinking the same thing. After working with the man for so long, Teal’c could tell this much just by watching his friend’s eyes. Just now, Teal’c knew that his friend was thinking how much information the detective could give them, information on the Wraith’s movements and activities for the last few months. It was exactly the type of information Colonel Carter had asked them to get, and all they had to do was ask the detective a few questions.

Unfortunately, Teal’c did not see any way to do that without revealing too much information of their own. As much as he might not like it, Teal’c knew that it would be up to him to act accordingly.

“Look,” the detective was saying to Daniel Jackson, “classified or not, I can still arrest you for trespassing on an active crime scene.” As she spoke, Teal’c quietly drew the zat strapped to his leg. He knew Daniel Jackson was aware of what he was doing, for he saw the understanding in his friend’s eyes.

“Actually,” the archaeologist responded to the woman’s statement, “you can’t.”

In one smooth motion, Teal’c brought up the zat, activated, aimed, and fired it. The detective had begun to turn towards him, likely trying to identify the source of the strange sound, and the blast caught her on the arm. She went down, twitching.

Teal’c stepped smoothly over her. “We should depart, Daniel Jackson.”

For once, the archaeologist didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled out his radio and thumbed the TALK switch. “ _Hammond_ this is Dr. Jackson. Ready for pick up.”

An instant later, a familiar glow encompassed Teal’c. The accompanying sensation of weightlessness was still mildly unsettling. As the intensity of the light increased, however, the weightlessness was joined by the unfamiliar feeling of a weight attached to his ankle.

Startled, Teal’c looked down in time for the brightest second of the whole “beaming” process. As the glow faded, and weight returned, part of Teal’c’s mind registered that he had been transported to one of the holds on the _USS Hammond_. Most of Teal’c’s mind, however, was startled to find that the weight attached to his ankle was Detective Beckett.


	7. Chapter 7

Rick Castle hated being kept in the dark. He also hated being kept away from a good story. And he _really_ hated it when the two things coincided, like right now.

According to his watch, it had been almost an hour after he’d spoken with Colonel Carter (if he’d known Air Force officers looked that good, he’d have signed up years ago) that Sergeant Peters opened the door to his cell. “Please come with me, Mr. Castle,” she said.

“Field trip?” he asked, standing and grabbing his bulletproof vest from where he’d set it earlier.

She smiled, but didn’t reply beyond that as she started walking down the corridor. Not wanting to be left behind, Rick hastily started after her, glancing around when another sergeant fell in behind him. “We can’t be left alone?” Rick asked Peters.

“Standard procedure,” she replied, pushing the call button for an elevator.

“Really?” Rick asked as the doors opened. He followed her inside, noting how many buttons there were, and that the sergeant punched the one labeled 15. “So this happens a lot? Strange people getting beamed to…wherever this is?”

She just gave him that smile again. Silence filled the elevator for the remainder of the ride. They exited into a hallway much like the one they’d just left, except this one had more traffic. By the time they’d stopped in front of a door two minutes later, Rick’s head was spinning. Not only had there been a lot of people in uniform, but he had also seen several people in lab coats, and could’ve sworn he’d heard several languages other than English…

“If you need anything,” the sergeant was saying, “there’ll be a guard outside at all times.”

“Huh? Oh, thanks,” Rick said, entering the room and looking around. For a military installation, the room was actually quite nice: a bed that looked quite comfortable, and a desk against one wall with several shelves and a lamp. The chair looked remarkably like the one in his office, and Rick made himself at home in it right away as he took in the rest of the room. Three walls were a uniform gray, although the wall the desk stood against was slightly darker. Intrigued by the discrepancy, Rick got out of the chair to take a closer look. The wall appeared to be the same material as the others, but…was that fresh _welding_ spatter on the seam…?

It was probably fruitless, but Rick also knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew what the Air Force was trying to hide behind the metal panels. So he pulled out his Swiss Army knife, opened the sturdiest blade, and carefully, oh so carefully, he dug it into the seam and began to whittle.

~~~~~

Kate knew that she wasn’t dead. Her head hurt _way_ too much for that to be the case. For that matter, so did the rest of her. What had happened to her? She remembered talking to that man at the crime scene and getting shot from behind by something that caused little bolts of blue lightning to dance over her (and wasn’t _that_ strange). Then… then… then she’d lost consciousness, apparently.

Wait, that wasn’t right. She’d hit the floor, yes. But then…

_Her muscles kept spasming even after she hit the floor. The man with the gold tattoo stepped over her, placing a weapon of some sort back into a thigh holster. “We should depart, Daniel Jackson,” he informed the other man._

_The guy with the glasses promptly pulled out a radio and spoke into it. “Hammond this is Dr. Jackson. Ready for pick up.”_

_Struggling to remain conscious, Kate barely had time to wonder how the good doctor expected to be picked up from inside a factory when the two men started to glow, exactly as Connor Jones had right before he and Castle disappeared._

_Before her body totally shut down, Kate reached out and latched onto the black guy’s ankle. The glow intensified, and with it came the unsettling sensation of total weightlessness. When weight returned, Kate barely glimpsed a room with metal walls and several other people in military uniforms before the blackness claimed her._

The startling realization that she had been transported elsewhere in the blink of an eye was enough for Kate’s eyes to snap open and for her to sit up in amazement. Immediately, she wished she hadn’t. “Ow,” she groaned, pressing her hands over her face to block out the bright lights of wherever the hell she was.

“Easy there, love,” a voice with a thick Scottish brogue said. “You’ve had quite the day.”

Kate froze, not daring to believe that she’d actually heard that voice.

“Katie.” Her hands were pulled away from her face. Almost against her will, she looked to her left. It couldn’t be… “Carson?”

“Aye,” Dr. Carson Beckett, Kate’s favorite cousin, replied, smiling. “Long time no see.”

“But, but, we… Aunt Margaret wrote that you… that you were...”

“Ah right,” Carson said, looking a little flustered. “Well, there was a little bit of a mix-up.”

“How?” Kate asked, thoroughly confused. “Carson, her letter said that you were _dead._ ” Even now, a couple of years later, Kate clearly remembered the anguish she had felt.

“I promise to tell you what I can later. Right now, though, I have to ask all of the typical doctor questions. How are you feeling?” He gently took her wrist in his hand as he spoke, and checked her pulse.

“Like I’ve been banging my head against the wall for an hour.”

“Oh, you still do that then?” His eyes sparkled as he hooked his stethoscope into his ears and placed the end on her upper chest. “Deep breath now.”

Kate stuck her tongue out at him, but couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face.

“Well,” Carson stated after a few more minutes of doctoring, “I think you’ll live.”

“Good. Now maybe you can tell me what the hell is going on,” Kate said.

“Kate---”

“Carson, my suspect disappeared into thin air, _literally_ , taking my partner with him, I got hit by some kind of weird lightning weapon, got transported in less than a second to God-knows-where, lost consciousness, and woke up to find that my cousin who’s been _dead_ for two years is apparently my doctor. I want answers Carson. Now.” It wasn’t until after she’d finished her little speech that Kate realized she’d referred to Castle as her partner. _Well, what else should I call him?_

The Scotsman opened his mouth, but before he could say anything a sound like a door opening drew Kate’s attention away from him. Off to her right a large metal door that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a bunker stood open behind a person in a very military-looking uniform. “Excuse me Dr. Beckett,” the young man said, “but you’re wanted in the briefing room. Miss Beckett, as well.”

“Right Airman. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Kate turned back to her cousin as the airman exited the room. “What’s going on, Carson?”

“I think you’re going to get the answers you’re looking for,” Carson said, offering a hand to her.


	8. Chapter 8

Rick had actually made some headway against the stubborn metal panel when someone knocked on the door. “Just a minute!” he hollered, hastily stowing the blade and sweeping the shavings into the garbage can. He pulled the desk chair into place in front of the panel, hiding his progress, just as another knock sounded. Rick reached the door just as it was opened from the outside. “Sergeant Peters,” he greeted the woman.

“Mr. Castle,” she returned the greeting. “Follow me please.”

“Where’re we going?” he asked, falling into step with her nonetheless.

“Colonel Carter wants to talk to you,” Peters replied.

“About what?” Rick asked, thinking guiltily of the panel he’d been cutting through.

The good sergeant wasn’t saying, however. She merely led him into the elevator again, this time hitting the button for floor 3. Rick briefly debated continuing with his questioning, but he wasn’t as good as Beckett at getting folks to open up when they didn’t want to. Thankfully, the ride wasn’t that long.

The corridor they stepped into when the doors open wasn’t as crowded as that on level 15, and everyone up here was wearing military uniforms. Sergeant Peters led him quickly to yet another closed door. She knocked on it twice before opening it and proceeding in. Assuming that he was supposed to, Rick followed her into the room and was instantly rendered speechless.

It was a pretty ordinary conference room, all things considered: three metal walls, a large metal table in the center with a number of chairs around it. About half of the chairs were currently occupied, and Colonel Carter was standing at the head of the table. But it was what was behind her that had silenced the author: instead of a fourth metal wall, there was a floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall window that showed a spectacular view of the stars and Earth.

A moment or an hour later, Rick became aware of someone calling his name. He tore his gaze from the window and redirected it to Colonel Carter. “Sorry?”

Colonel Carter motioned for him to have a seat. “Richard Castle, this is Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell,” she motioned to the brown-haired man seated on her left, “and Vala Mal Doran,” the brunette on Mitchell’s other side. As Rick sat on Colonel Carter’s right hand side, Vala winked at him. Rick smiled in return.

“You have some fans in high places, Mr. Castle,” Colonel Carter said.

“I’m guessing you don’t mean the mayor of New York,” Castle quipped, looking away from Vala.

The colonel shook her head. “The President seems to think that you can be trusted with classified information, and the Joint Chiefs agree.”

“As in the Joint Chiefs of Staff?” Rick asked, not quite believing his ears.

Before the colonel could reply, the sound of the room’s door opening drew Rick’s attention. Another individual in uniform stepped in, followed by a doctor and “Beckett?”

“Castle.” Beckett sounded quite relieved. “You okay?” she asked as she took the seat next to him.

“Yeah, you?” he asked, sizing her up. She looked a little groggy, but otherwise fine.

“Getting better,” she replied, looking towards where Colonel Carter was still standing at the head of the table. “Made some new friends, did you?”

Somewhat at a loss for words, Rick turned back to the colonel. “Colonel Samantha Carter, Detective Katherine Beckett,” he introduced the two women. Anything else he might have said was cut off by Colonel Mitchell’s snort.

“Any relation to the doc?” he asked, half-laughing.

“She’s my cousin, Colonel,” the doctor replied mildly as he sat on Beckett’s other side. “And I’m willing to bet she could kick your ass from here to Dakara.”

Rick had no clue where Dakara was, but the gist of the sentiment was understood. More interesting to him was that the doctor was related to Beckett. He raised an eyebrow at her in inquiry.

“Castle, this is Dr. Carson Beckett,” she introduced the two men. “Carson, this is Richard Castle.”

“ _The_ Richard Castle?” There was a twinkle in Carson’s eye as he reached across his cousin and shook Rick’s hand. “This can’t be the partner you spoke of, Katie?”

At that point, Colonel Carter stepped in. “I’m sure there will be plenty of time to get to know one another later. Right now---” She was cut off once more by the opening of the door. Rick turned around again in time to see two men in military uniforms enter. One had brown hair and glasses, while the other was big, black, and had enough muscle for an entire football team. The black guy also had a weird gold tattoo on his forehead; as he approached the table, Rick became less sure that it _was_ a tattoo. It looked as if someone had inserted gold directly into the guy’s skin, but that would have hurt like hell—“You!”

Beckett’s exclamation caused Rick to look over at her. She was glaring at the two men as if she knew them. Rick recognized her expression as the one she wore whenever she was ready to chew him out for doing something stupid.

“Nice to see you again, Detective,” the guy with the glasses said as he sat next to Vala. The black guy inclined his head in Beckett’s direction as he, too, took a seat.

“We expecting anyone else?” Mitchell asked Colonel Carter. His voice was laced with amusement at the frequent interruptions.

Carter ignored him magnificently. “For those of you who don’t know them, Richard Castle is one of the pre-eminent mystery novelists of the past decade. Detective Katherine Beckett is a member of the New York Police Department. Mr. Castle, Detective, this is Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell, Vala Mal Doran, Dr. Daniel Jackson,” the guy in the glasses, “and Teal’c,” the black guy. “You already know Carson.”

The blonde colonel finally sat down, opening a couple of folders that had been lying on the table. “Before we go any further with this, I have to ask each of you to sign a nondisclosure agreement.”

“I thought my fans had vouched for me,” Rick protested.

Carter smiled. “Even the President knows that there’s too much at stake to bypass policy.” She slid the folders and a couple of pens towards the author and detective.

Rick began skimming the document, trying to decipher the military and legal double-speak. “What’s it say?” he finally asked, looking up.

“If you sign, what you are told goes no further than this room for the time being. The two of you may discuss it, but only when there is no chance that you will be overheard. Should you break the tenets of this agreement, it can and will be construed as an act of treason.”

“And why should we sign?” Beckett asked.

“You would like a resolution to your case, I believe,” Carter answered. “You’ll also be told about where you are, and how Carson is still alive.”

Looking out of the window again was all the incentive Rick needed, as was the apparent vote of confidence from the President and Joint Chiefs. He picked up the pen and scribbled his signature on the dotted line. As he shut the folder, he glanced over at Beckett. She seemed to be having a wordless conversation with her cousin; after several long moments, she, too, picked up the pen and signed.

“Thank you,” Colonel Carter told them as she accepted the folders back. “What you are about to be told is considered Top Secret. Only the President, the Joint Chiefs, a few select Senators, and certain military personnel are aware of its existence. I, along with everyone else at this table, am involved with something called the Stargate Program. Our job is to protect Earth from those who wish to do us harm.”

“As in…” Rick trailed off, unsure if he really wanted to finish his thought.

“Yes Mr. Castle, aliens do exist."


	9. Chapter 9

_This day just gets better and better,_ Kate thought to herself. _Not only do I work with Richard Castle, I apparently stumbled into the real-life Star Trek._ On any other day, she would have merely made a noise of disbelief and moved on. After the type of day she’d had, however, she found herself in a more receptive frame of mind for the colonel’s last statement.

She glanced to her left to see a thoroughly gob-smacked Castle. A glance to her right showed Carson looking completely at ease with what Colonel Carter had said. Come to think of it, that explained his presence here: the aliens somehow brought her cousin back from the dead…

“Seriously?” Castle had found his voice, but it sounded like it belonged to a teenager. Kate glanced over at him just in time to see the smile spread across his face. “Sweet!”

Torn between exasperation and amusement, Kate turned her attention back to the woman at the head of the table. The colonel, with assistance from the other people at the table, briefly explained how a giant stone ring that had been discovered in Egypt in the 1920s was actually a device that let them travel to other worlds. Unfortunately, the aliens that lived on these other planets weren’t always friendly, particularly those that took human hosts and posed as gods from various mythologies. Luckily, the people of Earth (whom Dr. Jackson referred to as “Tau’ri”) were more than capable of holding their own, and had even managed to help free most of the galaxy from enslavement to these creatures over the last decade or so.

“Look, as fascinating as this all is,” Kate cut off Dr. Jackson and Colonel Mitchell as they bickered over some minor detail in the retelling, “what does it have to do with my suspect?”

“The Stargate also goes to other galaxies,” Colonel Carter said, “and your suspect is actually from one of them.”

Castle, who’d been sitting there with a dopey grin on his face this whole time, couldn’t let that one go. “Other _galaxies_? Have you run across any with Jedi yet?”

“Actually,” the colonel continued, ignoring him, “we’ve only connected with two other galaxies, because the amount of power the Gate requires is so great. About six years ago, Dr. Jackson found evidence that the race that built the stargates had also been the builders of Atlantis.”

“Another myth rooted in reality?” Kate guessed.

Dr. Jackson nodded. “The city did exist, and did really sink beneath an ocean, it just wasn’t here on Earth.”

“So the city sank and then you found it?”

“Pretty much. Five years ago a team was assembled to travel to the coordinates I discovered to see if they really did lead to the Lost City.”

“I take it they did,” Castle interjected.

“Aye,” Carson spoke up from Kate’s other side. “It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.”

“Carson? You were part of the team?”

“Long story, love. I promise I’ll tell you later. The point is, the Pegasus Galaxy, where Atlantis was located, is home to a charming little race called the Wraith.”

“What makes the Wraith worse than the Goa’uld or the Ori?” Castle asked. Kate was impressed with his pronunciation and memory.

“The Wraith feed on humans,” Carson replied, looking at Kate.

The memories of the crime scene four days ago flashed in front of her eyes. “Are you telling me,” she asked, striving to keep her voice calm, “that my suspect is one of these Wraith? That he literally ate my victim?”

“How could he have, though?” Castle jumped in before Carson could respond. “There weren’t any teeth marks on the body. Just those weird cuts on his chest.”

“The Wraith don’t eat the way we do,” Carson explained. “They use a secondary mouth, located on the palm of their hand, to steal energy from their prey.”

“Leaving them looking like a mummy,” Castle murmured, and Kate knew he was also thinking about the crime scene.

It certainly explained a lot, she considered. Except… “How did the Wraith wind up on Earth?”

Her question had everyone at the table aside from her and Castle trading looks, as if deciding what should be said and who was going to say it. “Ever since they encountered us,” Carson finally said, “the Wraith have been anxious to come to Earth.”

“They saw it as an all-you-can-eat buffet,” Colonel Mitchell put in.

“For the last five years, the men and women of Atlantis have been the only things standing between the Wraith and the people of Earth,” Colonel Carter explained. “The Atlantis Stargate was the only one in Pegasus with the ability to dial Earth directly, so that route, at least, was relatively safe. It didn’t stop the Wraith from trying other ways, though.”

“A little over three months ago,” Carson continued the story, “Atlantis learned that the Wraith had almost completed a ship that was capable of not only crossing the void between galaxies, but doing so in record time.”

“We weren’t able to stop it before it left Pegasus,” Colonel Carter explained, “and it made it to Earth. We were only able to defeat them because Atlantis arrived in time to help.”

“Wait, the _city_ came back here?” Castle asked. “What is it, a spaceship?”

“Actually, yes,” Dr. Jackson replied.

“So our suspect,” Kate said, ignoring the by-play, “was on this ship?”

“It might surprise you that there were more reports of UFOs after our little ‘altercation’.” Kate could hear the underlying sarcasm in Colonel Mitchell’s voice.

“Only they weren’t proper UFOs, were they?” the woman called Vala noted. “You knew just what they were.”

“Which was?” Kate asked.

“Escape pods!” Castle exclaimed. “Think about it,” he said as Kate leveled a glare at him. “It’s like having lifeboats on a Navy vessel. You hope to hell you don’t ever need them, but if something happens to your ship, you’ll be able to escape.”

“He’s right, Katie,” Carson said. “Some of the Wraith did escape the destruction of their ship and make it to Earth.”

“Dr. Beckett is the world’s foremost authority on the Wraith,” Colonel Carter said. “He’s been assisting my crew with our task of tracking down the survivors. Your suspect was the last one.”

“How---” Kate started to ask, but was cut off by the sudden blaring of alarms.

_“Attention crew. The Hammond is now in lockdown. Repeat, this ship is in lockdown.”_


	10. Chapter 10

It was hard to hear much over the alarms, but Sam distinctly heard Cam mutter, “What the _hell_?”

Silently agreeing with the sentiment, Sam pushed her chair back from the table and quickly made her way to the intercom panel on the wall. “Colonel Carter to the bridge,” she stated as she held down the button. “What is the situation?” She lifted her finger away, listening for any reply over the wail of the alarms. “Repeat,” she said when none came, “this is Colonel Carter. What is going on?” Once again, there was no response. _Well crap._

“Ma’am,” Sergeant Peters’ voice was raised to make herself heard over the noise. Sam turned to find the young woman had moved from her post by the door and was standing three paces away, her hand pressed to the radio in the pocket of her black vest. “Ma’am, the prisoner has escaped.”

_Of course he has_ , Sam thought to herself. Just when her day couldn’t get any worse… _Snap out of it Carter!_ There were times, like now, where her internal voice sounded very much like a certain Major General. _You’ve beaten hordes of those vampires before. What’s one more?_

“Okay,” Sam said to herself. Fortunately, this wasn’t the first time that she’d been in a similar situation, and this time there were no Replicators or Ori ships to deal with. Unfortunately, there was a Wraith loose on her ship, plus two untrained civilians that she had to worry about. _One step at a time, Carter_ , she reminded herself. Even as she was thinking it, she headed for a panel on the wall and disabled the speaker circuit. The blaring alarms silenced, she turned back to the rest of the people in the room.

“It can’t be that easy to turn off the alarms,” Castle stated.

“I just disabled the speakers,” Sam confirmed, mentally splitting the people in front of her into groups. “The Wraith has escaped,” she explained, “and has apparently managed to gain control of the ship.”

“We need to get the main computer back under our control, then,” Daniel spoke up.

“And get that vampire back where he belongs,” Cam added.

Sam nodded. “Sergeant Peters, Vala and I will head for the computer core and get back control of the ship. Cam, Daniel, Teal’c, and Carson will go after the Wraith.”

“What about us?” Castle asked, motioning to the detective and himself.

“You stay here,” Cam said before Sam could answer.

The novelist began to protest, but was overridden by the detective’s simple, “No.” Sam smothered a smile at Cam’s hiked up eyebrow. “Jones is still my suspect,” Detective Beckett continued, “and I intend to see this case through to the end.” Her tone brooked no argument, not that Sam would have protested. She’d reviewed the detective’s file once the scope of this…experience became clear, and had come to the conclusion that if the other woman had been part of the military she would have been assigned to the Stargate program.

“Detective Beckett,” Sam spoke up now, “will go with Cam’s team to recapture the Wraith.”

“What about---” Castle began again.

“Mr. Castle will stay here,” Sam finished, giving the man her best command stare.

“I’m really, really bad at following those directions,” he replied, completely unfazed.

“He is,” the detective confirmed.

“Colonel?” Sam turned towards Carson. “I could use Mr. Castle’s help.”

Sam dearly wanted to ask the question ‘to do what?’ but refrained. She had learned over many years to trust the people under her command, even when they offered ideas that didn’t necessarily make sense. Plus, Carson had just given her a way to defuse the problem and get everyone moving to deal with the crisis.

“Okay,” she nodded in agreement. “Everyone understands what they’re doing?” Nods all around. “Then let’s get moving.” She led the way over to a panel on the wall adjacent to the still-closed and now-locked door to the corridor. Popping open the small panel, she deftly rewired a circuit within, causing a small door to open next to her. “My team will go first, then Mitchell’s. Let’s make this quick, folks.” Without looking back, she squeezed into the crawlways that ran behind the walls and between the floors of the _Hammond_ , crawlways that would allow her and her team to take back the ship.

The crawlways were tight and they were on the clock, so Sam merely headed for the armory one deck up from the computer room and trusted that Vala and Sergeant Peters were keeping up with her. The alarms, muted in the crawlways, were deafening once Sam opened up the panel on the appropriate floor. A quick glance showed no one nearby; given the time of day Sam suspected that most crew had been isolated at their duty stations or possibly the mess halls. Years of habit die hard, though, and Sam still took a thorough look around as she emerged from the tiny space.

The visual sweep confirmed what she’d already noted. She turned back to the hatch as the young sergeant emerged followed by Vala and… “What are you doing here?”

Richard Castle flashed a nervous grin. “It was an accident?”


	11. Chapter 11

Initially, Kate tried to figure out where she and the others were going on their little jaunt through the bowels of the ship. She gave that up pretty quickly, however, since a) she still had no idea how big this place was or where anything was located, and b) it took more concentration than she would have thought possible to avoid running into Carson in front of her or Castle behind her. Thankfully, the alarms had not been installed in the enclosed space of the crawlway, so her ears, at least, got a break. For being hunched over and moving on hands and knees, the military personnel at the front of the line were moving at a quick pace and it wasn’t long before a sudden surge in the alarms’ volume alerted Kate that someone up ahead had opened another access panel.

It was only after she had followed Carson out into the ship’s corridor and straightened up that she realized Castle hadn’t followed her. In fact, aside from accidentally kicking him in the arm back when they’d first entered the crawlway, Kate couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard from or seen the novelist.

“Where’s Castle?” Carson asked now.

“I have no idea,” Kate replied. “Probably got lost in there.”

“He’ll have to find his own way out,” Colonel Mitchell said, leading the way down the hall. “We’ve got a job to do.” He stopped in front of a door and pulled on its handle, but it refused to budge. Swearing under his breath, he popped a small panel on the wall and promptly re-wired the interior so that the door swung open to reveal a small room packed with weapons. Teal’c and Dr. Jackson entered the room and began pulling things off of racks and passing them out. Kate accepted the vest Dr. Jackson handed her. It wasn’t her usual bulletproof, but she doubted the old Kevlar would have been up to this particular challenge. As she pulled it on, she noticed the peculiar weapon Teal’c was handing Carson.

“It’s called a zat,” Dr. Jackson explained, catching her eye. He held up another, tapping a button on the side so that it sprang upright with an oddly-familiar electronic sound. “Push here to fire. One shot stuns, two shots kill.”

“What’s wrong with a gun?” Kate asked.

“Just backup,” Mitchell answered. He was zipping up his own black vest as he spoke.

Kate nodded, accepting the 9-mil that Teal’c passed her. She checked it over quickly and efficiently, and placed it in its holster to receive several spare clips from Mitchell. By the time these were safely stowed in one of the pockets on the vest, the men with her were all similarly attired and armed, and Mitchell was leading the way down the corridor once again, gun raised in a standard two-hand hold. Dr. Jackson and Carson followed in a similar manner. Teal’c motioned for Kate to follow with one of the sub-machine guns he carried. Nodding, she moved into position as the large man fell into step behind her.

The armory they had stopped at wasn’t too far from their destination. At any other point, Kate would have enjoyed the experience of being on an actual spaceship, but just now she was in full out “cop mode”, carefully sweeping her eyes over every nook and cranny, looking for anything that looked out of place. (Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she would recognize if something didn’t fit, but she could at least point it out to the men who were with her.) It wasn’t long, however, until they began to slow down. Kate looked ahead and saw an open door, with several bodies lying beyond. Mitchell swept the room and gave the all clear, motioning the others inside.

The room was obviously the brig. What else could it be, with a pair of what looked like holding cells and a desk for whoever was on guard? There was a body slumped over the desk, and a further four lying on the floor. One more body lay half in one of the cells; Kate looked at it and looked away again when she saw the shriveled hand sticking out to the side. Shaking the picture out of her mind, she knelt down beside Carson as he checked the pulse of another man. “Are they okay?”

“They will be,” he promised her. Movement from the body in front of him cut off his next words. “How are you doing, sergeant?” he addressed the young man.

The young man’s reply was too soft to be heard over the continued wailing of the alarms. Carson reached out a hand, and the other used it to pull himself into a sitting position. “Doc? What’s going on?” His voice was raised now, and Kate could see that he was thinking hard as he stared around at his unconscious colleagues. “Where’s the prisoner?”

“What happened here, sergeant?” Mitchell shouted from his position by another body.

The sudden look of horror on the young man’s face told Kate that it wasn’t good. “Johnson and Kline started seeing things. Miles told them to snap out of it, but then we all started hearing things. I remember someone drawing their zat and then it went FUBAR, sir.”

 _Wonderful,_ Kate thought to herself. Dr. Jackson was still questioning the young man while Mitchell began yelling into his radio, likely trying to reach Colonel Carter’s team. “No good!” Mitchell shouted. “Doc! Take these men down to the infirmary and stay there. You,” he pointed to the sergeant, “help the doc. The rest of us are headed for the computer room.”

Even over the alarms, Kate could hear the worried tone in Mitchell’s voice, and felt her own worry race through her. _Where_ had Castle got to?


	12. Chapter 12

Vala Mal Doran had not lived among the Tau’ri for all that long, really. She’d been aware of them since somewhere around the time that Apophis finally died and stayed dead. She heard stories of the humans who were such pains in the _mik’ta_ for the System Lords. Of course there was her hijacking of the late _Prometheus_ , and then the treasure hunt that had led to the discovery of the Ancient communications terminal. Whatever progress she had been making in understanding Tau’ri culture had been stalled, however, by her stint living in the Ori galaxy. Her return into the middle of a literal war zone meant that any further anthropological studies would have to wait until the invading forces had been repulsed. Sure, she had become an accepted member of SG-1 and been part of many team nights, and Sam had happily introduced her to the concept of Girls’ Night. She’d also borrowed some of Muscles’ considerable DVD collection, and although she would never admit it to him, she _had_ learned a lot about the history of the planet’s civilizations from Daniel’s lectures. But she hadn’t really read anything beyond the occasional mission report, set of notes from Daniel’s library, or fashion magazine that someone left in the commissary. So when Richard Castle walked into the briefing room on the _Hammond_ , his name did not mean a thing to her.

Oh sure, she flirted with him, mostly out of habit. After all, he was quite good looking. But since she had not read his books, she really wasn’t sure how useful he could be. Based on her own experience, as well as the information she gleaned from those magazines, she doubted that any celebrity on the planet Earth could account for themselves in any sort of battle.

She suspected that Sam agreed with this sentiment, because her eyes had gone all buggy. Rather than yell herself hoarse over the alarms, however, she motioned for the others to follow her not even three meters down the hall. Here, she short-circuited the lock on the door while the sergeant stood guard. When the door popped open, Vala pushed the author into the room ahead of her. Sam was already inside, disabling the alarm as she had back in the briefing room. By the time Sgt. Peters was inside and had pulled the door closed, Vala’s ears were ringing in the sudden and blessed silence.

“You were supposed to go with the others!” Sam told Castle.

“So I followed the wrong person. Do you have any idea how hard it is to tell whose behind is whose?”

“I’m flattered,” Vala told the man before Sam could say anything. “But unless I’m much mistaken, we have a Wraith in control of this vessel and we really need to do something about that, don’t you think?”

While she didn’t look happy, Sam definitely recognized the wisdom in Vala’s words. Shooting one last death glare at the author, she pulled one of the many tac vests off of its hangar and shrugged into it. Vala quickly followed suit, while Sgt. Peters passed a vest over to Castle. “Oh, this is way better than my bulletproof vest!” the author exclaimed.

Vala followed Sam’s lead and simply ignored the comment, reaching instead for the P-90 and spare clips that Sam passed her. Once the clips were stowed in a handy pocket, Vala also grabbed a zat and holster from the racks and strapped it to her thigh. She looked up to see that Sam had done the same, while Sgt. Peters was grabbing extra ammunition for her own weapon. “Ready?” Sam asked, catching Vala’s eye.

“As always,” Vala replied.

“Yes ma’am,” the sergeant replied.

“What, don’t I get a weapon?” Castle asked. “I _do_ know how to shoot, you know.”

Vala glanced over at Sam, who surprisingly was not glaring daggers at the man. Rather, she seemed to be evaluating him as a teacher would a student, trying to gauge his truthfulness. Finally, Sam reached up to the rack that held the zats and pulled one down. “This,” she held the weapon up, “is called a zat. Press this button on the side,” she demonstrated, “to activate it. Press here to fire. One shot will stun, two shots will kill.” She passed the weapon over. “I don’t think that I need to tell you to be careful.”

Castle nodded, his expression sober. Vala heaved a quiet sigh, relieved that the man could tell when it was time to stop playing. “Shall we?” she asked, motioning towards the door, where Peters stood, one hand on the handle, the other on her gun. Sam moved to stand on the other side of the door, motioning for Castle to get behind her. Vala moved so that she stood partially behind Peters but had a clear field of fire. At a nod from Sam, Peters pushed the door open. All three women tensed, ready to fire, but the only things that greeted them were the still-blaring alarms.

Sam signaled to Peters to go first before exiting herself. Vala nudged Castle out ahead of her, placing him at the center of their formation. Up ahead, Sam had drawn even with the sergeant. In this formation, the foursome proceeded through the deserted corridors, Sam and Peters taking it in turns to be the first around a corner, while Vala alternated between keeping an eye up ahead and looking behind them, wary of anything sneaking up on them.

Based on her recollections of the schematics, Vala was sure that they weren’t far from the computer core when they rounded a corner and came face-to-face with an emergency bulkhead door.

“We have to go through there!” Sam practically shouted over the alarms, motioning at the door. “Vala, cover us!”

Vala returned to the corner, eyeing the empty corridor beyond. Even over the alarms, she heard the _zap_ of the lock being short-circuited, and glanced over her shoulder to see Castle and Peters using a couple of short pry bars to lever open the door. Even unlocked, the emergency doors were extremely heavy, so the pair stopped as soon as they had an opening big enough to squeeze through. Sam went through first, P-90 at the ready. The sergeant and Castle followed next as Vala backed away from the corner. As soon as she felt the door at her back, Vala turned and darted through the opening.

They were in another, smaller section of the same hallway, facing another emergency bulkhead. “Sam!” Vala yelled to make herself heard over the alarms, “If I remember correctly there are about three more of these between us and the core! It’s going to take too long to get through all of them!”

“I know!” Sam yelled back. “But our only other choice is to get back into the du--” Her words were cut off as the door that they had just come through slammed behind them.

“How is that possible?” Castle shouted. “I thought you disabled the controls!”

Before Sam could reply, a series of small vents opened near their feet and a high-pitched whistling could be heard over the alarms. Vala looked at Sam with a sinking feeling. “Is that what I think it is?” she called to her friend.

“What?” Castle asked.

“I think so,” Sam responded. Letting her P-90 be supported by the harness, Sam quickly turned to Sgt. Peters and signed what needed to be done.

“What’s going on?” Castle asked. Vala could see his chest heaving slightly, and felt her own doing the same.

“The air is being sucked out,” she replied, carefully keeping her voice low enough that it couldn’t be heard over the alarms.


	13. Chapter 13

Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell rounded the corner and swore under his breath.

“Well that’s not good,” Jackson observed from behind him, also looking at the closed bulkhead. “Now what?”

“Let me think!” Cam shouted back over the alarms. _Why_ hadn’t the Wraith shut the blasted things off? They had to be just as annoying for him as they were for the humans on board… Cam’s eyes swept the shortened corridor and fell on the ubiquitous vent near the floor. “Jackson!” he called to get the man’s attention and pointed to the vent. The archaeologist nodded in understanding and knelt down to remove the panel, helped by Detective Beckett. When the opening was uncovered, Cam knelt down and stuck the P-90 into the duct, sweeping both ways. Confirming that it was clear, he turned back to the other three: Jackson and Beckett still crouched on the floor, Teal’c standing, half-turned to keep an eye back down the corridor. “Let’s go!” Cam told the group. With that, he clambered head-first into the duct, trying his best to keep his gun at the ready while moving on hands and knees and silently thanking whoever had designed the ship that there were no alarms in the tight space.

As he reached the corner that signaled the end of the hallway, Cam paused for a moment and looked back. He was mildly annoyed to see Detective Beckett immediately behind him, rather than Jackson or Teal’c, but there wasn’t much that could be done about that now. “Teal’c!” he called. Beckett and Jackson both ducked slightly, allowing Cam to see the Jaffa at the rear of the group. “Check me: around the corner, down two floors using the ladder, then straight ahead to get to the computer core.”

“Indeed,” the larger man agreed.

Jackson raised his head back up and caught Cam’s eye. “That path puts us _in_ the core room.”

“And your point is what?” Cam retorted. “He’s probably got the doors in sealed, so this is our best chance.” Before the archaeologist could say anything more, Cam turned around and began crawling again. He knew Daniel was just being Daniel, pointing out potential flaws in the plan. But dammit, they didn’t always have time for that! Sometimes, the really simple, stupid plans were the most likely to work. Around the corner, crawl the short distance to the ladder. Gun first, Cam poked his head out into the vertical shaft, scanning for anything potentially lethal. “Clear,” he called over his shoulder. “Careful people.” Letting the harness take the weight of his gun, Cam used both hands to carefully extract himself from the tunnel and onto the ladder. By the time he reached the appropriate floor, Detective Beckett and Jackson were on the ladder above him, and Teal’c was just extracting himself from the shaft. Hanging from the ladder, Cam took a moment to make a quick visual sweep of the next duct before he crawled in.

“I hate ducts,” he muttered under his breath. Approaching a turn in the crawlway, he paused for a moment to look over his shoulder. “Everyone here?” Three voices confirmed the presence of his team mates & Beckett. “To Oz,” Cam muttered, facing forward and crawling through the turn. He’d only crawled a few feet in the new corridor when a chill ran up his spine.

Unfortunately, the warning came too late. Cam barely had time to yell a warning and drop to his stomach as something rather large and with too many legs flew toward him. Behind him, Beckett also let out a shout. Flipping onto his back, Cam discovered Beckett lying on her stomach, using her arms and hands to protect her face and neck from the very large and very ugly bug that stood on her head. Without pausing to think, Cam unholstered the zat strapped to his right thigh and fired it at the creature. Surprised when a second streak of blue lightning quickly followed, he looked up to find Jackson also on his belly and Teal’c still on hands and knees with his own zat pointed at the insect. Nodding his thanks to the Jaffa, Cam looked back at the prone detective. “You okay?” he asked.

Carefully, Beckett lowered her arms. “I think so,” she replied. “Now would you please get it off of me?” Impressed by her calm tone, Cam reached out with his boot and kicked the now-dead animal away. The detective nodded her thanks as she scrambled back onto her hands and knees.

Behind her, Jackson had done the same. “Any ideas how the Wraith managed to bring an iratus bug with him?”

“No,” Cam replied shortly. “And I don’t plan on asking him, either. Zats only until we’re out of this duct.”

His order proved to be a good one, for they ran into three more iratus bugs before they reached the grille above the computer control room. Zats allowed them to kill the bugs without too much risk to the others, and, as a bonus, were quiet enough that Cam doubted the Wraith would hear their approach.

Thankfully, the access point for the computer core room was at floor level. Cam hated the fact that they couldn’t see into the room proper, but if memory served they would exit behind one of the big computers scattered around the outer edge of the room. They just had to hope that the Wraith wouldn’t be close by. The good news, Cam thought as he began to ease open the latches, was that the sounds of their exit would be overshadowed by the still-wailing sirens that he could hear beyond the wall.

Fortune was with them. Cam was able to unlatch the panel and set it off to the side, and everyone managed to exit the crawlway, crouching to stay below the blocky console standing in front of them. Taking a deep breath, Cam peeked around the corner of the computer and took in the scene in front of him.

The Wraith sat at the middle computer bank, so his back was to them. All three screens were active, and Cam somehow doubted that it was anything good. Dropping back, he noticed the other three busily checking their weapons. Using hand signals, Cam directed Teal’c to take up a position behind one of the far consoles, while Daniel took up a similar position on the opposite side of the room. The detective would stay put, while Cam tried to get the Wraith to stand down.

“Move out!” Cam mouthed, ignoring Teal’c’s raised eyebrow and the worried look on Daniel’s face. The faster this thing was taken care of, the better. Besides, he wasn’t planning to actually talk to it…. Once the others were in position, Cam stood up and moved around to the front of the computer bank. Sighting carefully along the P-90, he took aim for the slimy thing’s back, just level where the heart was. Taking a deep breath, he fired.

The Wraith jerked forward over the keyboard. Before Cam could celebrate, however, it raised itself out of the chair. To his horror, Cam could see the green skin healing through the hole in its clothing. It was only then that he saw the shriveled bodies of the two computer techs lying at the alien’s feet. “Crap,” he muttered, raising his eyes in time to see the Wraith pointing a zat squarely at his chest.

~~~~~~~

Daniel barely heard the shot over the blaring alarm, but when he did he raised himself up enough to peek over the top of the computer in front of him. He was as startled as Mitchell when the Wraith merely shook off the shot and turned around, armed with the stunner. When he saw Mitchell’s eyes flicker down, Daniel too looked in that direction. His eyes widened at the sight of the two shriveled bodies; by his count the Wraith had fed three times in the last hour, meaning that its healing capabilities were extremely accelerated.

As Mitchell’s body hit the floor, incapacitated by the stun blast, Daniel realized that taking back the ship was going to be a lot harder than it had first appeared.


	14. Chapter 14

It was extremely cramped in the crawlways, but then they hadn’t been designed with anything other than basic maintenance in mind. Moving on hands and knees, Sam vowed that once this ordeal was over she would have some choice words with the designers about putting more thought into how their work was used. For example: it was sadly a not-unheard-of experience for one or more crew members to utilize the crawlways in an emergency. She herself had done that back when the _Prometheus_ was still under construction. In her opinion, that knowledge would have best been utilized by making sure that a crew member could get to any of the ship’s vital areas using the crawlways. Clearly, this lesson had been lost on the designers of the 304. That point was driven home when the crawlway Sam was leading her team through reached a dead-end just shy of the ship’s computer core. “Everybody out!” she stated, maneuvering around and pounding the corners of the grate on her right.

“Are we there?” Castle asked.

“Almost,” Sam replied as the grate fell free and clattered to the floor below. Now came the fun part. She crawled forward until her upper body was pressed against the dead end and carefully twisted her lower body until her legs were hanging out of the opening. A gentle push from her and gravity did the rest. Sam made sure to move forward the instant she hit the floor, clearing the way for the others.

The alarms were once again deafening. Wincing slightly at the pain in her ears, Sam noted that the emergency doors at either end of this short stretch of corridor were sealed, as she had expected. Rather than bother with her weapon, she instead moved towards the door that led into the computer core room and popped open the keypad beside it. Less than a minute later, a satisfying spark confirmed that she had once again short-circuited the lock. Movement to her left indicated that Castle and Sgt. Peters had pulled out the pry bars earlier and were once again levering the doors apart. Looking around, Sam noted that Vala had taken up a position behind the author, P-90 at the ready. Sam mirrored her, aiming her own weapon over the sergeant’s shoulders.

They stood there for what felt like an eternity, and Sam’s mind started working overtime. Why hadn’t the Wraith tried to stop them again? True, he likely couldn’t hear anything over the alarms, but the doorway was in plain view of anyone in the room. At the very least, he should have noted the widening crack between the doors by now…. A blue lightning bolt suddenly blasted through the gap in the doors, hitting Sgt. Peters in the chest and knocking her into Sam.

Even over the alarms, Sam heard Castle’s startled “Whoa!” Catching the sergeant, Sam gently lowered her to the floor and checked her pulse. It was strong and steady, which meant that she’d merely been hit by a zat blast. Looking up, Sam noted that Vala had grabbed the author and forced him against the wall, hopefully out of harm’s way. Sam took the opportunity to make her way to the gap in the door. Staying low to avoid any more shots, she peeked around the corner, and looked in at a war zone.

Granted, she had a terrible angle, but the first things she saw were the two bodies of the techs that had been stationed in the core room. Sam quickly looked away, promising herself time to regret their loss later. Looking up, she saw the top of the Wraith’s head as he crouched behind the computers, his zat aimed at someone off to the side. As Sam watched, he ducked and spun around, firing at someone on the opposite side of the room from the open door. Catching Vala’s eye, Sam used hand signals to communicate the plan. Vala nodded. As Sam began squeezing herself through the opening, she saw Vala plant a hand on Castle’s chest to show him that he was to stay put.

It was a good thing the Wraith was distracted; between the vest and her P-90 the gap in the doors was a bit of a tight fit. Once inside, Sam crawled on hands and knees to the left hand side of the console and looked around the corner. She was relieved to see Teal’c crouched behind the next console in the ring, and saw her feelings mirrored in his eyes when he caught sight of her. Unfortunately, the continued blaring of the alarms meant that she couldn’t talk to him, so she settled for signing the plan to him as best she could. He nodded his head once in understanding.

Sam looked back the way she had come, saw Vala signaling the plan to whomever was stationed on that side. Her only regret was that there was no good way to signal the person on the far side of the room, but that couldn’t be helped. Besides, everyone in here had training for dealing with situations similar to this, so they should be able to just go with the flow.

Catching Teal’c’s eye again, Sam held up three fingers. _Three, two, one!_ As she put down the last finger, she and Teal’c both straightened up enough to fire over the top of their respective hiding places.

Sam could barely hear the sound of her P-90 firing over the alarms, let alone hear what the others were doing. However, she could see out of the corner of her eye when Vala and Daniel popped up from behind their own consoles and joined in the barrage. A flicker of movement beyond Teal’c indicated that whoever had been hiding behind the far console had joined in, also firing away. In the middle of this barrage, the Wraith was still moving, still firing his zat at any target. For the moment, he could still heal rapidly, but Sam could see that that ability wasn’t going to last much longer. Already, some bullet holes were continuing to ooze green blood, and the Wraith’s movements were becoming slower. _Come on, come on_ , Sam thought, willing herself and the others to hold on for just a little bit longer.

So focused on the Wraith was she that a flash of blue zipping past her right side nearly made her jump. It hit the Wraith full in the face, sending the alien sprawling. Sam instantly stopped firing but kept her gun at the ready as she rose to her full height, just in case this was another trick. Around the room, Teal’c, Vala, Daniel, and Beckett did likewise. Wondering where Cam was, Sam watched as Teal’c cautiously moved in and prodded the Wraith with his foot.

No movement. Whether stunned or dead, the Wraith was out of the game for the moment. Sam hurried around to the main computer and entered her command override code, bringing the ship out of lockdown and finally, _finally_ shutting off the blaring alarms. In the sudden silence, Sam heard the doors to the room open the rest of the way. She looked up to see Richard Castle, zat still drawn, standing frozen in the doorway.


	15. Chapter 15

“Here you go, Katie,” Carson smiled, passing her a mug of coffee.

“Thanks, Carson,” Kate smiled in reply as he took a seat across from her. In the two hours since the Wraith had been killed, life on the _Hammond_ seemed to have gone back to normal, and she and her cousin were among a small number of people taking advantage of the commissary’s services. Kate was still a little surprised that Carson wasn’t needed in the infirmary, but he had already assured her that his colleagues were more than up to the task of caring for Colonel Mitchell, Sergeant Peters, and the other victims of the Wraith’s stun weapons. Truthfully, Kate was glad to spend some time catching up with her cousin. Hearing about his life during the last five years had been fascinating, although it was still hard for her to grasp that the man sitting with her was a clone of the original Carson. After thinking about it, though, Kate decided that it didn’t really matter: he had all of Carson’s memories, looked like Carson, and sounded like him. Plus, it wasn’t like the other Carson was going to turn up and confuse things.

“I must admit, you’re taking all of this remarkably well,” the man in question said.

Kate shrugged. “Maybe it would be more difficult if I’d seen more of you in the last few years, but as far as I’m concerned, you _are_ my cousin. Besides, I’ve been working with Richard Castle for the last eight months. If that hasn’t prepared me for dealing with insanity, nothing will.”

Carson’s eyes twinkled. “Yes and how exactly did that come about? Did you write him a fan letter?”

“No,” Kate replied, blushing slightly. “We had a string of cases where the murders were staged to look like some of his books. I brought him in for questioning to see if he could shed any light on the situation.”

“Was he able to?”

“Not directly, no, but we did find evidence in his fan mail that led us to the killer.”

“A happy ending, then,” Carson stated. “But why is he still hanging around you?”

The blush was more pronounced this time. “Research.” Carson raised his eyebrow, silently urging her to elaborate. “He decided to base his next character on me.”

Kate’s face was burning now, and Carson was sporting a mile-wide grin at his cousin’s discomfort. “And how is that working out?” he asked, chuckling.

“He acts like a child and can’t stop making up stories about our victims.”

“But?” Carson prompted. Inwardly, Kate cursed how well he knew her.

“Occasionally he’s actually been helpful,” she admitted. “There have been a couple of cases where I don’t know that I would have solved them as quickly without his help.”

“How much longer is this going to go on?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He should have more than enough material by now.”

“Will you miss him when he leaves?” Carson’s smile was entirely too wide and too knowing for Kate.

“Maybe,” she allowed. Time for a subject change. “What about you?” she asked him. “Will I see more of you since Atlantis is stuck on Earth?”

“We might be able to arrange something,” Carson allowed. “I don’t know how often we’d be able to see each other, though, or for how long. Most of the people on Atlantis still want to try to return to Pegasus, but I’m not sure the IOA will allow it.”

“They’re the group that oversees the Stargate program?” Kate checked.

Carson nodded. “Mr. Woolsey has been pushing at them for a couple of months now. He’s had Rodney begin tests on the star drive to see if it could work again, but even if it does, we’d still need to find a power source.”

“That could take some doing,” Kate agreed. Carson had tried explaining how the city’s star drive worked, but since he didn’t really understand it himself he hadn’t been that successful, though he had managed to convey the scope of the problem. She paused, unsure of how to phrase the next question. “Do you… are you one of the ones who wants to go back?”

He nodded. “I feel like there’s a lot of work that I need to do back there, and it’s not like I can really go home. All of the family still thinks I’m dead.”

“You mean the IOA and the Air Force can’t do anything about that?” Kate asked, incredulous.

Carson shrugged. “I wanted them to, at first. But then I had time to think about it, and now I’m not so sure. I think my mother has been through enough without having me come back from the dead and hearing some terrible cover story about why I was reported dead in the first place.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Kate acknowledged. “It’s going to be tough, though, not telling anyone that I’ve seen you.”

“Well, it’s not like you can tell anyone all of the details of your work anyway, is it?” A sudden smile crept across Carson’s face. “Of course, you could always talk to Castle---”

“Oh shut up!” Kate laughed, throwing a crumpled up napkin at him. Carson caught it, also laughing, and for the next little while they were just two cousins, catching up on old times.

~~~~~~

Richard Castle looked down on the earth.

Literally.

According to the Dr. Jackson, there were several of these observation rooms scattered around the ship, used for different science-y reasons. At least, that was the gist of it; the good doctor had started to ramble and Rick had tuned out everything except directions to the nearest window. Now he stood looking down over all of North America, watching the sunset line as it moved slowly across the continent, pulling darkness in its wake.

Of course, the lights of hundreds of cities broke that darkness. If Rick concentrated hard enough, he imagined he could locate the bright cluster of lights that represented Manhattan on the east coast. Alexis should be home by now, and had hopefully persuaded Hurricane Martha that eating take-out twice in one week was no problem at all. Both ladies would likely be a little worried that he hadn’t contacted them today, but there wasn’t anything that could be done about that; Rick doubted that his cell phone coverage extended into low Earth orbit. Plus, he couldn’t exactly tell them where he was, what with the whole nondisclosure agreement he’d signed. Damn shame, too, because Alexis would geek out just as much as he had. Then again, he would have to downplay the “life-sucking alien” part of things; she worried enough about him since he’d started following Beckett….

“Mr. Castle?” Rick looked around to see another Air Force person standing in the doorway. “Colonel Carter would like to speak with you, sir.”

“Coming,” Rick replied, turning away from the window and following the young man out of the room.

~~~~~~

“I still can’t believe the writer killed the Wraith,” Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell commented from his bed in the _Hammond_ ’s infirmary. Daniel smirked; there was a distinct note of whining in his friend’s voice.

Vala apparently heard it too. “You’re just upset because you were unconscious for the whole firefight,” she spoke up from her seat next to Daniel, “which is what happens when you do something as stupid as try to talk to an armed Wraith.”

Mitchell opened his mouth to reply, but stopped at Daniel’s surreptitious head shake. Vala had clearly seen Daniel, however, for she elbowed him in the side. “Ow!” Daniel protested, causing Cam to laugh. Sitting on the other side of Mitchell’s bed, Teal’c smiled at his teammates’ antics.

Taking a deep breath to calm down, Cam threw his head back on the pillow. “So what happens now?” he asked the rest of the team.

~~~~~~

“Your case file will become the property of the United States Air Force, as will all evidence that you collected in the course of the investigation,” Colonel Carter informed Kate. The detective, Castle, and the Air Force officer sat at the same conference table where Kate had first learned the true nature of her suspect what felt like a lifetime ago. This time, though, the colonel sat on one side of the table with Kate and Castle opposite her. “Mr. Castle,” the blonde now turned towards Castle, “any notes that you may have written will likewise be taken.”

“Don’t worry Colonel,” the author assured her, “I was too busy avoiding the life-sucking alien to write anything down.”

Kate could have sworn she saw a smile flicker across Colonel Carter’s face, but it was gone in flash. “I’m glad to hear it,” Carter replied. “I don’t think that I have to tell you that if anything remotely resembling details of this case appears in your next book, you will be in serious trouble.”

Castle nodded his understanding. “No science fiction. Got it.” Kate glanced over at him in time to catch a gleam in his eyes. “What if I just have a walk-on for a really minor character, say, a really hot blonde---” Colonel Carter leveled her gaze at him, and he wilted. “Guess not,” he mumbled.

Kate bit her cheek to keep the smile from stealing across her face. “One question,” she said to the colonel, “what am I supposed to tell the family of the victim?”

Carter paused for a minute, and Kate could see the wheels turning as the other woman thought about her query. Surely this wasn’t the first time the officer had had to think up some sort of cover story to feed grieving loved ones; although, to be fair, the other times she had likely been talking to a service person’s family who knew at least the broad outline of what their relative had been doing. Kate, on the other hand, couldn’t give Vic’s brother some line about how Vic had “died in the service of his country”. “Tell them you caught the person responsible,” Carter’s voice broke into Kate’s thoughts. Her eyes met Kate’s, and an understanding passed between the two of them: no matter what was said, it was never enough.

Kate nodded her thanks. A sound off to her right made her look past Castle to see a young airman walk in carrying a bundle of objects. When placed on the table, Kate recognized the bundle as her and Castle’s personal effects, including her gun and his bulletproof vest. On top of the pile was a small piece of paper addressed to her. Opening this, Kate found Carson’s name and an e-mail address. Smiling, the detective looked across the table. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Carter replied, standing up and extending her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too,” Kate stated, also standing and taking the other woman’s hand.

“If you ever need help tracking down any little green men, you know where to find us,” Castle jumped in as he too stood up and offered his hand to the blonde.

This time, Colonel Carter did smile. “Actually, they’re grey,” she told the author, shaking his hand briefly. Kate felt her own eyes widen with shock at that statement. She looked over at Castle to see his dropped jaw just as he began to glow. Kate looked back at Colonel Carter as the glow intensified. Her last view of the other woman was of a brilliant smile, probably at Castle’s expression.

The glow reached its peak and that annoying weightless sensation gripped Kate once more. When the light faded, she found herself standing in the alley outside the precinct, the sounds of New York traffic off to her left. Beside her, Castle was sputtering. “Wha—what did she mean ‘they’re grey’?” he finally managed to ask as Kate looked at him.

As shocked as she was, Kate couldn’t help but laugh at the indignation in Castle’s voice. “Don’t look at me, Castle. I don’t think we’re ever going to know.”


	16. Chapter 16

Later that night, Richard Castle sat in front of his computer, typing away. He had arrived home to a hot dinner and a mother and daughter who, while relieved to see him, were both noticeably put off by his refusal to discuss the conclusion of the case. Rick believed, or rather hoped, that he’d managed to placate them with his half-truth of a _very_ long day. At any rate, they’d stopped asking questions and instead switched to relating the events of their own days. Now, two hours later, they’d both gone to bed and he’d retreated to his office to process the events of the day the only way he knew how: by writing about it.

Yes, the story would never be published. In fact, to avoid the wrath of the US government, he wouldn’t even bother saving the file. But his thoughts careened through his head at breakneck speed, and he knew sleep wouldn’t come until he imposed some order in his mind.

“Dad?”

“Hey pumpkin,” Rick looked up from the screen to find his daughter leaning against the doorframe. “What are you still doing up?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Alexis started walking toward him, “normally when you and Beckett solve a case you come home and can’t stop talking about it. You share every detail of the takedown and every little bit of information about the guy’s motive. But tonight,” she started walking around the desk and Rick hurriedly minimized the document, “you come home looking like you’ve been through the wringer and the only information we get is that you caught the guy. That’s it. Then once you think we’re asleep you start writing something that I’m not allowed to even read.” She looked pointedly at the laptop. “What’s going on?”

Rick let out a sigh and dropped his head. “I’m sorry sweetie,” he finally said, raising his head back up. “I want to tell you, believe me. It’s killing me to not tell you. But I could go to jail if I say anything.” _Or worse,_ he thought.

Alexis’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Since when did the NYPD care so much about nondisclosure?”

“They don’t.” Taking another deep breath, Rick made a decision. “Our suspect was in trouble with the federal government.” His daughter’s eyes widened, and he knew she understood. _Good girl._

“So why are you writing about it?” she asked after several moments.

“Just trying to get my thoughts in order.” He glanced at the computer and looked back at Alexis. “You should get some sleep.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly at the change of subject, but a large yawn destroyed the effect. “Okay,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “But you should, too.”

“In a few minutes,” he promised. “Now scoot.” Alexis leaned over and placed a kiss on his head before making her way back out of the office. Rick waited until she was in the living room before re-opening the document and leaning forward to read what he’d written so far. He’d covered pretty much everything except the final conversation with Colonel Carter, and reading it back now he had to shake his head. Who would have thought when he decided to shadow an NYPD Homicide detective he’d wind up with notes that read like something out of the science fiction section?

Stifling a yawn, Rick clicked on the red X at the top of the screen. _Do you want to save this file?_ The author paused with the cursor hovering over the “No” button. If no one ever saw the file, then technically he wasn’t breaking the terms of the nondisclosure agreement….

_Why risk it, though?_ It had been fun to relive the whole experience in writing it, but Rick was not sorry to click that “No” and shut off the computer. After all, he could always use the terms of the nondisclosure agreement as an excuse to get Beckett alone….


End file.
